We are now traveling through the Western Province. We started off in Senanga and will go on to Sesheke, Shangombo, Nangweshi and finally Sioma. The west of Zambia is sandy and dry. Although we will be driving along the Zambezi River the whole time, we will have no electricity and no running water for the majority of this leg of the trip. We will quickly pass over a bridge and briefly into Namibia, so that should be cool to get to go to a third country in Africa, but we will be on extremely rough roads and we have already have had some car troubles within our convoy.
Yesterday we visited Victoria Falls and it was spectacular! This is just the end of a very wet rainy season and so the falls were gushing with water. We got absolutely soaked all the way down to our underclothes. There is such a huge amount of water pouring over the falls that we could see the mist rising from the bottom of the falls when we were 5 km (3 miles) away from the falls! Very impressive stuff!
I am on my fourth week of straight travel now and spending yesterday at the falls has been a great break from all of it. We were able to stretch our legs as we walked around the falls and we had a great laugh doing so. In fact, there was so much water and we were getting so wet, it made it hard to take photos and videos without ruining the photographic equipment. To visit Victoria Falls, the Zambians paid 5,000 K to get in ($1) and I paid 95,000 K ($25). We also went to another set of smaller falls today on our way to Sesheke and this time it was free entry for the Zambians and I had to pay 25,000 K. Being a Muzungu can be expensive!
When we arrived in Sesheke all the girls went to have their hair done. The falls took a toll on our hair and our clothing and so it was an opportune time for the girls to go straight to a salon upon our arrival. Zambians like to look good and Zambian women spend a lot of money doing their hair. Sometimes they wear wigs which have straight hair “like a Muzungu” as they described it to me. Other times they get weaves where they weave hair extensions into the natural hair. I spent 1.5 hours waiting for the girls to pretty themselves for our dinner, and by the time we went to eat, I was famished.
In the west you have a choice of nshima, nshima or nshima. That can be accompanied by chicken or fish. So I ordered sea bream and nshima and the fish was amazing. Nshima is ground maize (corn) that is boiled and stirred into something resembling a very, very thick mashed potato – so thick in fact that you eat it with your hands. You do so by pulling off a bit of the nshima, rolling it in your hand (or “playing with it” as the Zambians like to say) and then you take the ball you have rolled up in your palm and you scoop up some sauce or some green vegetable (called “rape”) with it. Contrary to its name, the rape is actually delicious and between that and the fish, I was very satiated at the end of the meal, washing it all down with an ice cold Zambian beer.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Young mothers
The girls I am traveling with on this adventure are pretty amazing. I found out during my travels here that all of them and most of the girls working at the office in Lusaka are orphans. Camfed is not only a campaign for education but also focuses on making the lives of girls around Africa more stable by sponsoring their education, clothing, food and helping them pay for their families. They do this for girls who have lost one or both parents and who likely already have one or more children of their own. Penelope, who I am mentoring to be an IT manager, lost both her parents and all but one sibling. On her own, she raises 12 kids, 2 of her own and 10 of her sisters.
All the girls I am working with and who work at the office are in a similar situation as Penelope. As we travel I realize that every time we eat a meal or stay at a guest house, the less they spend, the more they can save for their families. Unlike me - looking for good food and comfortable accommodations in each place we stay - the girls want to eat cheap and stay in the least expensive guest houses we can find so they can pocket their per diem. It took me 6 weeks to learn all of this. But now that I know it, I am starting to pay for many of the meals and incidentals. Ironically, they all get paid for the work they are doing while I am doing volunteer work and get no pay. But the per diem is more than enough for me to pay my way and then some.
A couple of the girls really impress me with how dedicated they are to the program and the work they do training and mentoring the girls. Fatuma is extremely motivated to learn IT and asks questions all the time. She will stay up to late hours with me writing IT reports and this is after long and stressful days driving long distances, installing the IT equipment and training and mentoring the group leaders.
Melody is very passionate and inquisitive. She asks great questions during the mentoring sessions and when she finds the girls are losing motivation or not focused she will look them in the eyes and have a heart-to-heart with them about how they have to work hard and take advantage of this great opportunity they have been given to start-up their own businesses. She is great with words and you can tell that she means every word that comes out of her mouth. Her words come from her heart and she has a big heart.
Ruth told me the story of how she got pregnant at a very early age and how she and her mother help take care of her mother’s 22 siblings and her sibling’s children. It is a large clan all said and Ruth takes the money she gets from Camfed and pays for raising her family as well as sending herself to school for economics. Ruth, too, does a great job with the girls and is very motivated. The first day I worked with her I could tell she would make a great mentor. She listens carefully and she does a great job of “drilling down” to get the answers and helping the girls. She inspires the girls and she tells them personal stories of her own experiences to motivate them and keep them interested.
Mwangala is a program officer and is fantastic - she is very driven and obviously interested in the girls’ projects. You can tell she cares and you can see her passion when you watch her work. I love when I see people passionate about their work and I feel it makes them much more motivated in their work and generally makes them more effective and better at their job. She asks very good questions, she keeps things positive and she re-focuses the group when they get discouraged or side-tracked.
When I consider what these girls have been through and the hardships they are faced with it is truly impressive. I feel proud to be part of the team and I also feel lucky to get to work with these young women. On the other hand, some of the petty things that I have complained about in my past or little things I get worked up about during my career – they all seem so insignificant. These girls are an inspiration and they face life head-on, even when it treats them poorly or scares the hell out of them. What they have gone through to get where they are today is incredible. If I can go as far ahead in my life as these girls have in theirs, I would do myself and my parents extremely proud, of that I am sure.
All the girls I am working with and who work at the office are in a similar situation as Penelope. As we travel I realize that every time we eat a meal or stay at a guest house, the less they spend, the more they can save for their families. Unlike me - looking for good food and comfortable accommodations in each place we stay - the girls want to eat cheap and stay in the least expensive guest houses we can find so they can pocket their per diem. It took me 6 weeks to learn all of this. But now that I know it, I am starting to pay for many of the meals and incidentals. Ironically, they all get paid for the work they are doing while I am doing volunteer work and get no pay. But the per diem is more than enough for me to pay my way and then some.
A couple of the girls really impress me with how dedicated they are to the program and the work they do training and mentoring the girls. Fatuma is extremely motivated to learn IT and asks questions all the time. She will stay up to late hours with me writing IT reports and this is after long and stressful days driving long distances, installing the IT equipment and training and mentoring the group leaders.
Melody is very passionate and inquisitive. She asks great questions during the mentoring sessions and when she finds the girls are losing motivation or not focused she will look them in the eyes and have a heart-to-heart with them about how they have to work hard and take advantage of this great opportunity they have been given to start-up their own businesses. She is great with words and you can tell that she means every word that comes out of her mouth. Her words come from her heart and she has a big heart.
Ruth told me the story of how she got pregnant at a very early age and how she and her mother help take care of her mother’s 22 siblings and her sibling’s children. It is a large clan all said and Ruth takes the money she gets from Camfed and pays for raising her family as well as sending herself to school for economics. Ruth, too, does a great job with the girls and is very motivated. The first day I worked with her I could tell she would make a great mentor. She listens carefully and she does a great job of “drilling down” to get the answers and helping the girls. She inspires the girls and she tells them personal stories of her own experiences to motivate them and keep them interested.
Mwangala is a program officer and is fantastic - she is very driven and obviously interested in the girls’ projects. You can tell she cares and you can see her passion when you watch her work. I love when I see people passionate about their work and I feel it makes them much more motivated in their work and generally makes them more effective and better at their job. She asks very good questions, she keeps things positive and she re-focuses the group when they get discouraged or side-tracked.
When I consider what these girls have been through and the hardships they are faced with it is truly impressive. I feel proud to be part of the team and I also feel lucky to get to work with these young women. On the other hand, some of the petty things that I have complained about in my past or little things I get worked up about during my career – they all seem so insignificant. These girls are an inspiration and they face life head-on, even when it treats them poorly or scares the hell out of them. What they have gone through to get where they are today is incredible. If I can go as far ahead in my life as these girls have in theirs, I would do myself and my parents extremely proud, of that I am sure.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Sausage torture
Today we met with group 10. The girls were originally selling sausages. They then entered into micro-finance and then decided on the strangely unique combination of sausages and micro-finance. I wondered to myself…so if they have a slow payer do they threaten to “stone” the culprit with sausages? Or do those who prove to be bad borrowers get stuffed like a sausage? Or perhaps sausages get stuffed down the throats of those who default on their loans.
As I reflected on the various methods of using sausage for the purpose of torture, I started to realize that I really did not feel very well. Foolishly (and cockily) just this morning I was bragging to Mr. Rain about how I was the only one in the group, other than he, who had not gotten sick since my arrival in Zambia. Well we know what happens when we make proud proclamations like that, because before I knew what was happening and lost somewhere in the middle of a sausage torture ritual, I started to sweat and flush over with heat and my head started to pound. Was it the sausages? Was I making myself ill with too much of my sick sausage torture fantasy? No. This was something else. I dropped my head into my hands and for the first time on the entire trip started to feel ill.
I promptly excused myself from the training session and Lazarus drove me to the guest house where I popped 600 mg of Ibuprofen, plopped down on the bed, propped a pillow over my head and dropped into a deep sleep. When I woke up my head was still hurting but my temperature had subsided. I got up and out of the bed and stumbled to the door. When I opened it I realized for the first time how beautiful the area we were staying in was.
We were smack dab on the Zambezi River and surrounded by large trees covered in white lily-like flowers. Every once in a while one of these flowers would slowly drop from the trees and come spinning down like a small white helicopter whose body turned instead of its blades. And it would silently plop down on the ground where several of its relatives had also dropped down polka-dotting the well manicured dirt paths beneath the trees. It felt very peaceful here and I must say I felt my mood lift and my head suddenly stop pounding at the site of all of this natural beauty.
I walked down to the river bank and gazed at the ebb and flow of ripples along the top of the water. It was soothing and with that, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. I walked back up to the restaurant and gazed over the menu. Nothing. Literally nothing inspired me. Chicken and T-bone. Ugggh. So I called Mr. Rain and asked him to drive me into town. There we found 2 restaurants. One was very dimly lit and the only outside tables were complimented with characterless, white, plastic chairs, most of them already occupied by customers.
So we drove on to the second restaurant. And it was a beauty! It had three big outdoor wooden gazebos with nice wooden chairs to match. It was perfect and I told Mr. Rain to leave me there and I’d join him later. “Hello. How are you? May I see a menu please?” I asked. They had no menu, but I will give you one guess as to what they were serving - and you will guess right, of that I am sure. Chicken and T-bone. Ugggh. So I ordered chicken and chips (fries) and sat down outside in the shade of the gazebo.
45 minutes later I walked over to the woman who had taken my order and asked where she reckoned my food was. “We have no power” she said flatly. Ugggh. Had she thought of mentioning this when I first placed the order? Had she even considered that it might be relevant to the fact that my food being heated and cooked thoroughly was completely dependent on the electricity which powered the electric cooker? I guess she hadn’t. But she did say that the fries would be ready momentarily so I gladly accepted her offer to eat just the chips and a Coke. The Coke came and was ice cold and I was glad and gulped a third of the bottle down. Then the “fries” came.
The irony in calling them “fries” (the American term for the British “chips”) was that they were literally saturated with barely warmed oil. They were the color of a freshly peeled potato without even a hint of color indicating the oil had actually begun to cook the potato. And when my starvation peaked to such a level that I was willing to take a bite of this raw, oil-soaked, colorless potato, the crunch was not that of something fried in oil, but that of a potato picked fresh from the garden and dipped into Castor oil. It was the sad and impotent crunch one experiences when he takes a bite out of an old, mealy apple. I can tell you I left that place in a huff.
I asked Mr. Rain to swing by a small store in the center of town where they sold everything from flip flops to roach powder and from electric keyboards to soap. I bought two bags of chips (crisps) that looked like they had been put into a time capsule in 1870 and buried in someone’s backyard in hopes that a hungry, whiny, white man would someday find them and quench his hunger pangs on this ancient delicacy. One was called “Salted Beef” and tasted of musty, salty shoe leather. The other was called “Tomato Potato” and tasted like a piece of moistened cardboard dipped in very sweet tomato ketchup. I dreamed of lasagne or a big pizza with salami piquant covering it and a big glass of bold IItalian red to go with it. But, alas, my dreams went unanswered and so, there I sat, sadly chewing on shoe leather and moist cardboard. Right about now, sausage torture sounds like heaven!
As I reflected on the various methods of using sausage for the purpose of torture, I started to realize that I really did not feel very well. Foolishly (and cockily) just this morning I was bragging to Mr. Rain about how I was the only one in the group, other than he, who had not gotten sick since my arrival in Zambia. Well we know what happens when we make proud proclamations like that, because before I knew what was happening and lost somewhere in the middle of a sausage torture ritual, I started to sweat and flush over with heat and my head started to pound. Was it the sausages? Was I making myself ill with too much of my sick sausage torture fantasy? No. This was something else. I dropped my head into my hands and for the first time on the entire trip started to feel ill.
I promptly excused myself from the training session and Lazarus drove me to the guest house where I popped 600 mg of Ibuprofen, plopped down on the bed, propped a pillow over my head and dropped into a deep sleep. When I woke up my head was still hurting but my temperature had subsided. I got up and out of the bed and stumbled to the door. When I opened it I realized for the first time how beautiful the area we were staying in was.
We were smack dab on the Zambezi River and surrounded by large trees covered in white lily-like flowers. Every once in a while one of these flowers would slowly drop from the trees and come spinning down like a small white helicopter whose body turned instead of its blades. And it would silently plop down on the ground where several of its relatives had also dropped down polka-dotting the well manicured dirt paths beneath the trees. It felt very peaceful here and I must say I felt my mood lift and my head suddenly stop pounding at the site of all of this natural beauty.
I walked down to the river bank and gazed at the ebb and flow of ripples along the top of the water. It was soothing and with that, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. I walked back up to the restaurant and gazed over the menu. Nothing. Literally nothing inspired me. Chicken and T-bone. Ugggh. So I called Mr. Rain and asked him to drive me into town. There we found 2 restaurants. One was very dimly lit and the only outside tables were complimented with characterless, white, plastic chairs, most of them already occupied by customers.
So we drove on to the second restaurant. And it was a beauty! It had three big outdoor wooden gazebos with nice wooden chairs to match. It was perfect and I told Mr. Rain to leave me there and I’d join him later. “Hello. How are you? May I see a menu please?” I asked. They had no menu, but I will give you one guess as to what they were serving - and you will guess right, of that I am sure. Chicken and T-bone. Ugggh. So I ordered chicken and chips (fries) and sat down outside in the shade of the gazebo.
45 minutes later I walked over to the woman who had taken my order and asked where she reckoned my food was. “We have no power” she said flatly. Ugggh. Had she thought of mentioning this when I first placed the order? Had she even considered that it might be relevant to the fact that my food being heated and cooked thoroughly was completely dependent on the electricity which powered the electric cooker? I guess she hadn’t. But she did say that the fries would be ready momentarily so I gladly accepted her offer to eat just the chips and a Coke. The Coke came and was ice cold and I was glad and gulped a third of the bottle down. Then the “fries” came.
The irony in calling them “fries” (the American term for the British “chips”) was that they were literally saturated with barely warmed oil. They were the color of a freshly peeled potato without even a hint of color indicating the oil had actually begun to cook the potato. And when my starvation peaked to such a level that I was willing to take a bite of this raw, oil-soaked, colorless potato, the crunch was not that of something fried in oil, but that of a potato picked fresh from the garden and dipped into Castor oil. It was the sad and impotent crunch one experiences when he takes a bite out of an old, mealy apple. I can tell you I left that place in a huff.
I asked Mr. Rain to swing by a small store in the center of town where they sold everything from flip flops to roach powder and from electric keyboards to soap. I bought two bags of chips (crisps) that looked like they had been put into a time capsule in 1870 and buried in someone’s backyard in hopes that a hungry, whiny, white man would someday find them and quench his hunger pangs on this ancient delicacy. One was called “Salted Beef” and tasted of musty, salty shoe leather. The other was called “Tomato Potato” and tasted like a piece of moistened cardboard dipped in very sweet tomato ketchup. I dreamed of lasagne or a big pizza with salami piquant covering it and a big glass of bold IItalian red to go with it. But, alas, my dreams went unanswered and so, there I sat, sadly chewing on shoe leather and moist cardboard. Right about now, sausage torture sounds like heaven!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Chocolate or Vanilla?
I had a nice relaxing break from travel for 2.5 days and rested at the guest house. We now have a new group of mentors and trainers. Our group is now made up of Penelope, who I am mentoring on this trip. She comes from Samfya and co-manages the IT centre there called the SRC or Samfya Resource Centre. Sinakiwe (meaning Gift, which is what I call her, as I can easily remember it) has joined us from Zimbabwe and she is one of the mentors who will help to monitor the progress of the Cama groups. Ruth is from the Western province and will also mentor along side Gift. Mr. Rain, Gift and Penelope are in one vehicle, and Chanda, Ruth and the new driver, Justin, are in the second vehicle.
This morning we were supposed to leave very early to go to the Western province. The trip was supposed to last 9 hours, however, one of the vehicles in our convoy got a flat tire and the spare tire was flat. As if this did not slow us down enough, Justin drives like a blue-haired grandmother on heavy sedatives. So with the convoy slowed to a turtle’s pace, and the slow repair of the flat tire which then needed pumping, a 9-hour trip turned into 12 hours. Moreover, we stopped not in Senanga which was our final destination and where we were scheduled to meet the Cama group the following day, but in Mongu which is 1.5 hours short of Senanga.
That night I was sitting having dinner with Mr. Rain. By the time we sat down just short of 10 PM, they had nothing but chicken, chicken and more chicken. So I begged for the last sausage. I also order a side of fries. I shrewdly noticed that ordering the two separately saved me 4,000 Kwacha ($1.00). If I ordered fries with sausage as a single order it was 18,000 K but separately it was only 7,000 K for each. This really confused the waiter and after calling a huddle with 3 of his colleagues, they all decided the menu (and I) was right and they granted me the 4,000 K “discount”.
As I gobbled down the sadly small, shriveled sausage and soggy fries, I noticed a group of 4 white girls walk into the restaurant. They did a double-take and I echoed one right back at them, as it was always rare to stumble across another white person, especially out here in the sticks. As I contemplated what these 4 cute white girls were doing out here in the middle of nowhere, suddenly another 15 or so joined them and, just like that, the 5 black customers became the minority for what I would venture to guess was the first time in their dining history at this eating establishment.
The other thought that crossed my mind at the time was that these white girls looked so foreign to me. After 6 weeks in Zambia and only seeing one white woman, Jane the trainer, I realized that it seemed strange to once again gaze at a white girl’s features - or 20 white girls, for that matter. And without intending any offense to any white women who might be reading this, there was something very “vanilla” (pun sort of intended) about this group of exceptionally attractive young ladies. I mean some were gorgeous and very much the type I might go for back home. But I guess I have become so accustomed to white European features over my lifetime, that there was something relatively plain about these girls. The African women I had been seeing for the past month and a half seemed relatively much more new and exotic to me.
And now as I tried to remind myself that I will be retuning to Europe in 3 weeks I am acutely aware of the fact that I really have a new found appreciation and attraction to African women. They are exotic and very feminine and their movements seem to flow more easily than their light-skinned sisters. For now I observed the white girls’ movements and mannerisms almost as a little clumsy and awkward. This can at least partially be attributed to their relatively young age. Yet still, I could not help but notice a very tangible difference between the young African girls and the white girls I now observed in the small restaurant in which I sat.
This morning we were supposed to leave very early to go to the Western province. The trip was supposed to last 9 hours, however, one of the vehicles in our convoy got a flat tire and the spare tire was flat. As if this did not slow us down enough, Justin drives like a blue-haired grandmother on heavy sedatives. So with the convoy slowed to a turtle’s pace, and the slow repair of the flat tire which then needed pumping, a 9-hour trip turned into 12 hours. Moreover, we stopped not in Senanga which was our final destination and where we were scheduled to meet the Cama group the following day, but in Mongu which is 1.5 hours short of Senanga.
That night I was sitting having dinner with Mr. Rain. By the time we sat down just short of 10 PM, they had nothing but chicken, chicken and more chicken. So I begged for the last sausage. I also order a side of fries. I shrewdly noticed that ordering the two separately saved me 4,000 Kwacha ($1.00). If I ordered fries with sausage as a single order it was 18,000 K but separately it was only 7,000 K for each. This really confused the waiter and after calling a huddle with 3 of his colleagues, they all decided the menu (and I) was right and they granted me the 4,000 K “discount”.
As I gobbled down the sadly small, shriveled sausage and soggy fries, I noticed a group of 4 white girls walk into the restaurant. They did a double-take and I echoed one right back at them, as it was always rare to stumble across another white person, especially out here in the sticks. As I contemplated what these 4 cute white girls were doing out here in the middle of nowhere, suddenly another 15 or so joined them and, just like that, the 5 black customers became the minority for what I would venture to guess was the first time in their dining history at this eating establishment.
The other thought that crossed my mind at the time was that these white girls looked so foreign to me. After 6 weeks in Zambia and only seeing one white woman, Jane the trainer, I realized that it seemed strange to once again gaze at a white girl’s features - or 20 white girls, for that matter. And without intending any offense to any white women who might be reading this, there was something very “vanilla” (pun sort of intended) about this group of exceptionally attractive young ladies. I mean some were gorgeous and very much the type I might go for back home. But I guess I have become so accustomed to white European features over my lifetime, that there was something relatively plain about these girls. The African women I had been seeing for the past month and a half seemed relatively much more new and exotic to me.
And now as I tried to remind myself that I will be retuning to Europe in 3 weeks I am acutely aware of the fact that I really have a new found appreciation and attraction to African women. They are exotic and very feminine and their movements seem to flow more easily than their light-skinned sisters. For now I observed the white girls’ movements and mannerisms almost as a little clumsy and awkward. This can at least partially be attributed to their relatively young age. Yet still, I could not help but notice a very tangible difference between the young African girls and the white girls I now observed in the small restaurant in which I sat.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Mentoring future mentors
Today I said goodbye to Melody and yesterday I said goodbye to Fatuma. It was very, very sad. We all really bonded as a group and it was so great working together and getting to know each other over the past two weeks. We worked and played together and we became very close to one another. It made me extremely sad to say goodbye, but I know I have made two very close friends forever. They are both wonderful young ladies with the most amazing energy, drive and enthusiasm. Each of them was specially selected by Camfed.
Melody does mentoring and monitoring of the Cama girls and Fatuma runs the IT center in Samfya. Each was selected because she shows amazing promise and is absolutely devoted and dependable. The 4 of us (along with Lazarus) make a great team and have had such a great time traveling together. There is no doubt in my mind that each of these young ladies, both sponsored by Camfed, will be hugely successful in their careers and give back tenfold what Camfed has given to each of them. They are just two of the many girls who, once trained by Camfed, have taken that training and their own experiences and parlayed all of it into becoming amazing trainers and extremely admirable young ladies. They are now training other girls in Africa to learn the same skills they have learned and to potentially develop more incredibly talented trainers for future Cama programs.
Next week I head off to the Western district with a new group of mentors and trainers, along with Lazarus. I am excited for the next phase of the project and the challenges we will face over in the west. I also love teaching and mentoring, so this will give me a chance to focus on training the new girls on being IT trainers and to let me focus on teaching the new Cama groups over in the west. But I will miss Fatuma and Melody very much. At least I will get to see Fatuma again in 10 days time when I head back to Samfya.
Saturday afternoon, Sunday (today) and tomorrow I have time off. I am really looking forward to it as it is long overdue and I am excited to catch up on blogging, reading, checking emails, playing guitar and watching a couple of cheesy movies at the Serenity Guest Lodge. And I will eat Chips Mayaya in honor of Melody.
Melody does mentoring and monitoring of the Cama girls and Fatuma runs the IT center in Samfya. Each was selected because she shows amazing promise and is absolutely devoted and dependable. The 4 of us (along with Lazarus) make a great team and have had such a great time traveling together. There is no doubt in my mind that each of these young ladies, both sponsored by Camfed, will be hugely successful in their careers and give back tenfold what Camfed has given to each of them. They are just two of the many girls who, once trained by Camfed, have taken that training and their own experiences and parlayed all of it into becoming amazing trainers and extremely admirable young ladies. They are now training other girls in Africa to learn the same skills they have learned and to potentially develop more incredibly talented trainers for future Cama programs.
Next week I head off to the Western district with a new group of mentors and trainers, along with Lazarus. I am excited for the next phase of the project and the challenges we will face over in the west. I also love teaching and mentoring, so this will give me a chance to focus on training the new girls on being IT trainers and to let me focus on teaching the new Cama groups over in the west. But I will miss Fatuma and Melody very much. At least I will get to see Fatuma again in 10 days time when I head back to Samfya.
Saturday afternoon, Sunday (today) and tomorrow I have time off. I am really looking forward to it as it is long overdue and I am excited to catch up on blogging, reading, checking emails, playing guitar and watching a couple of cheesy movies at the Serenity Guest Lodge. And I will eat Chips Mayaya in honor of Melody.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Girl power !
The groups we have been meeting have been pretty incredible. Initially Camfed selects some top performers from grade 12 and sponsors them for a special training program geared towards teaching business management and project management skills. These skills include creating budgets, communication, price structuring, finance and microfinance, accounting and budgeting, procurement and project management.
The girls are also trained on IT skills such as introduction to computer operation, troubleshooting, using email and the internet, printing, word processing, and creating spreadsheets. They also learn how to use the internet and send emails using their Camfed-issued mobile phones. After the girls finish their project and business training, they are divided into groups (referred to as Cama groups). Each group chooses a business that they want to run using their newly acquired skills and they are mentored through the business start-up all the way through to the independent and successful running of the business.
The groups are running businesses such as jewelry making, clothing manufacturing, making handbags from recycled plastic bags, running child daycare, running a photo and print shop, selling mobile phone talk time, selling mountable battery powered light bulbs, running a bakery, selling sweets and candies, and tourism and travel agency. We visit the girls on a regular basis to continue the mentoring and training process and make sure the groups are on track with their businesses.
Throughout this process the girls have been faced with a whole series of challenges. The girls live in rural areas and getting together for meetings and to run the business can pose a problem. The distance between group members and no money for transport rings about problems rotating the phones. At times the group member with the phone does not come to the meetings. We suggested budgeting some of the company’s funds for transport and told those girls with the phones that they really must make the effort to attend the meetings when they are the ones with the phone in their possession.
Many of the girls have no electricity so the girls have a challenge recharging their phones, being able to send emails and communicating with one another. As we helped them charge their phones using the portable battery, the groups informed us that it cost them 2000 Kwacha (about $0.50) every time they charge their phones. We suggested that some groups could integrate this method of making money into their business model and offer such a service – recharging mobile phones for others. The phones cost money to use and Camfed sponsors the topping up the credit on the SIM cards so they can use the telephones.
The girls told us they are lacking training and it is evident that many of them do not have much experience using the phones or the computers. I suggested another 1 or 2 sessions could be planned with the group leader during one or more of the group meetings. They need to have more time to train in order to be comfortable with the phones. If they are not comfortable using the phones and computers, they will not use them.
The Cama Trainers have been trained more thoroughly than the other members. The members must learn to ask for assistance when they do not know how to do something. What’s more, the trainers should be proactive in offering their services to the other members and passing on knowledge and training so the girls can do it for themselves, not just the trainer doing it for other members.
If the group members have children present, breaking the training session in 2 parts and allowing for a break helps maintain interest and focus. The group told us that the phones enhance communication between the members and the group leader, the ILO trainer as well as between members. We pointed out that the phones could also be used for communicating via email with suppliers and customers.
Regardless of the challenges they face, the girls are showing amazing progress. The group seems to be excited about using email and the internet over the phones and seems to be really gaining in confidence using the T1 and E2 computers. They are even taking initiative to try to find creative workaround solutions and teaching themselves new things on the computer.
The girls are also trained on IT skills such as introduction to computer operation, troubleshooting, using email and the internet, printing, word processing, and creating spreadsheets. They also learn how to use the internet and send emails using their Camfed-issued mobile phones. After the girls finish their project and business training, they are divided into groups (referred to as Cama groups). Each group chooses a business that they want to run using their newly acquired skills and they are mentored through the business start-up all the way through to the independent and successful running of the business.
The groups are running businesses such as jewelry making, clothing manufacturing, making handbags from recycled plastic bags, running child daycare, running a photo and print shop, selling mobile phone talk time, selling mountable battery powered light bulbs, running a bakery, selling sweets and candies, and tourism and travel agency. We visit the girls on a regular basis to continue the mentoring and training process and make sure the groups are on track with their businesses.
Throughout this process the girls have been faced with a whole series of challenges. The girls live in rural areas and getting together for meetings and to run the business can pose a problem. The distance between group members and no money for transport rings about problems rotating the phones. At times the group member with the phone does not come to the meetings. We suggested budgeting some of the company’s funds for transport and told those girls with the phones that they really must make the effort to attend the meetings when they are the ones with the phone in their possession.
Many of the girls have no electricity so the girls have a challenge recharging their phones, being able to send emails and communicating with one another. As we helped them charge their phones using the portable battery, the groups informed us that it cost them 2000 Kwacha (about $0.50) every time they charge their phones. We suggested that some groups could integrate this method of making money into their business model and offer such a service – recharging mobile phones for others. The phones cost money to use and Camfed sponsors the topping up the credit on the SIM cards so they can use the telephones.
The girls told us they are lacking training and it is evident that many of them do not have much experience using the phones or the computers. I suggested another 1 or 2 sessions could be planned with the group leader during one or more of the group meetings. They need to have more time to train in order to be comfortable with the phones. If they are not comfortable using the phones and computers, they will not use them.
The Cama Trainers have been trained more thoroughly than the other members. The members must learn to ask for assistance when they do not know how to do something. What’s more, the trainers should be proactive in offering their services to the other members and passing on knowledge and training so the girls can do it for themselves, not just the trainer doing it for other members.
If the group members have children present, breaking the training session in 2 parts and allowing for a break helps maintain interest and focus. The group told us that the phones enhance communication between the members and the group leader, the ILO trainer as well as between members. We pointed out that the phones could also be used for communicating via email with suppliers and customers.
Regardless of the challenges they face, the girls are showing amazing progress. The group seems to be excited about using email and the internet over the phones and seems to be really gaining in confidence using the T1 and E2 computers. They are even taking initiative to try to find creative workaround solutions and teaching themselves new things on the computer.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Solar powerful stuff
Today we went to Lwela High in Eastern Milenge. Eight E2 computers were installed here and the computers are in excellent condition. The school is incredibly grateful for the computers and all the surrounding villages can benefit from the computers installed at the school. The school has no electricity and has a real need for solar power. Currently they use a generator for powering the computers.
The teachers admitted that if they had solar power they would definitely use the computers more frequently and hold more classes than they can at present. It seems clear that a school like this could really benefit from solar power. Can Camfed deliver solar panels and multiple batteries to this school? In fact, I presented the school with two options to facilitate raising the funds to get this accomplished. They could run an IT center for the surrounding villages charging for the use of the computers. This is common practice in and around Zambia. Also, when the school stops using the generator all the time they could reallocate those funds to a reimbursement fund for the solar panels and batteries. Currently, the school spends 65,000 Kwacha (about $15) every two weeks.
The teachers admitted that if they had solar power they would definitely use the computers more frequently and hold more classes than they can at present. It seems clear that a school like this could really benefit from solar power. Can Camfed deliver solar panels and multiple batteries to this school? In fact, I presented the school with two options to facilitate raising the funds to get this accomplished. They could run an IT center for the surrounding villages charging for the use of the computers. This is common practice in and around Zambia. Also, when the school stops using the generator all the time they could reallocate those funds to a reimbursement fund for the solar panels and batteries. Currently, the school spends 65,000 Kwacha (about $15) every two weeks.
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