FINAL BLOG: MY YEAR IN REVIEW

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon. I could see the reddish tinge of the sun set against the powder blue-grey sky. The early dusk chill began to settle into my bones as I walked briskly across the native grasses towards Old Jim.

“Hi, could you tell me how to get to Old Jim”, I asked briskly to a fellow commuter peddling on his bicycle. 

“It’s that way, but you . . . “, he quickly glanced at the slippers casually strapped to my feet. “There’s a stream – you have to cross”. 

I nodded, thanked him, and plodded on.

The stream was actually a small creek, but my anxiousness to get across before the dark descended quietly onto the valley’s undulating landscape made the creek appear more ominous. To my eyes, the river gushed rather than gently rolled downhill, and as I crossed, I was too careful in balancing on the moss covered stones, which formed a trail across the gurgling water. I almost fell into the chilly water.

Once across, it occurred to me suddenly that there might be poisonous, dangerous snakes laying in silence between the tall, native grasses. I prayed quietly, feeling vulnerable in my slippers. I hoped the shuffling of my feet wouldn’t awaken any if they were indeed present. 

The shortcut turned out to be winding, dirt trails that eventually took me back to the main road; the shortcut turned out to be unnecessary, after all, as I got to Mr Banda’s house in more time than if I had used the proper route. Moreover, the roads after the turn off to get to his house all looked alike that I began to worry that I was lost – but then when I arrived at a small intersection, I looked to my left and saw the familiar hump and garden adjacent to his neighbor’s house signifying that I was in exactly the right place. 

When I arrived, he was just coming around his main house. Mr. Banda is building, using his meager monthly income to incrementally buy nails and bagged cement. He used the soil around his house to mold the bricks that would serve as the structure. He and his wife greeted me as a imposed on them. 

“Oh, hello, Camille.”

“Hi Mr. Banda”, I greeted, using the formal way to address a stranger in Zambia. I handed him the plastic bag of vegetables I purchased from the market stalls on Lundazi Road. Tomatoes, kale, the usual items purchased by poor, Zambian households. “I wanted to make sure you got these. Sorry about not buying the cassava – I was sick the last few days and wasn’t able to get back to the Saturday Market”.

The real reason was that my memory wasn’t functioning well; the flu had done me in and I was bedridden for a couple of days. Three days later, my mind was still fuzzy and I had trouble keeping track of my days.

We bade each other farewell, as I did my other colleagues at the Council, and promised to meet up if I ever returned to Zambia. 

The walk back to Chipata Motel didn’t feel as long. I returned to my room just as the last rays of sunlight sank into the red, dry soil of Chipata Valley and resumed packing, in preparation for my departure from Zambia. This day was my last in Chipata.

When I parted from Mr. Banda, I began to feel a little sad about leaving Zambia all together. It had been my home for a year, and even with all the aggravation that periodically migrated into my heart, I had discovered a home in Chipata and settled into the life there, somewhat, having developed friendships and acquaintances. Here I was again; having lived the full experience, I (as usual) recognized the familiar nostalgia that always hits me (to paraphrase an old cliché) like a ton of bricks as the end of the experience comes to a near. 

As a volunteer funded by CUSO International, I cannot really judge my work at the Council by interpersonal relationships, alone. Because the funds supporting my service were partially paid for by Canadian taxes, I have to judge my work also by what I accomplished for the Council based on the targets that the planning department had issued to me.

In reviewing this past year, I would assert that the year was a success. The integrated development plan was written and I fit the format to the specifications of the Regional Urban Planning Act as well as the wants of the planning staff. It had become clear to me that the planners wanted an urban planning guide, so I fashioned the language and the format of the IDP according to the needs of the planners so as to make the planning process as painless and uncomplicated as possible. 

Secondly, I completed the draft sectoral plan for unplanned settlements, which grew out of the local area plan written to upgrade the Magazine Squatter Compound. If everything was on my timeline and in my control, within a year, I would have signed the consent to legalize lands and started allocating land for community gardens, and worked with the social planners to develop a 3-year plan to saturate the houses with vegetable plots. As this was not my reality at the Council, I settled for a completed grant for building the market shelters, GPS coordinates of most features in the Compound to facilitate the mapping of the area, and the beginnings of a health outreach and food security program. It must also be pointed out that the work on the Compound had to bode well with the schedule of the other planners. Admittedly, I was a little selfish as far as pushing to get things done there.

In addition, I managed to include a few trainings into my otherwise mundane planning work load. The trainings helped to add spice to my professional life at the Council.

If I was unsuccessful in this placement, it was in failing to navigate through the politics of local government of Chipata District, which replicates the politics of governments everywhere. If you want to know what I mean by this, watch CNN or the local news coverage of your governments at all levels. Whatever you learn about in the news coverage also plays/played out in Chipata District. 

The difficulty for me was the balancing of political interests with public ones. I’m not sure it this skill is one that I will ever perfect. I prefer simply planning and letting the more skilled people to politic, while I play the puppet master in the wings, pulling the strings.

Another year, another experience well spent. Thank you, CUSO International, VSO Zambia, and Chipata Municipal Council!

Another fundraising reminder –

I will continue to raise money for CUSO International until my $2,000 goal is met. Hence, I will keep this blog open until I’m told by CUSO that the goal has been reached. Please continue to send in your $10 donations through the link to the right of my blogs or by check/money order. The instructions are written on the fundraising page. 

On that final request, I leave my readers with my favorite images of Chipata. These photos should explain to readers my sudden attachment to Africa. Thank you for staying tuned all year!

Posing with Naomi's children

Another photo with Naomi's children

Fish from the day's catch in Nkhata Bay, Malawi

Residents bathing in Lilongwe River not far from Mabuya Lodge

Musungu fruit - native to the Eastern Province (i think) - sweet and succulent. In a word, delicious.

A view of Lake Malawi from the Big Blue Start Backpackers

The Cewa Village in Katete from one angle

Children residing within the vicinity of Chipata center - eating a vsimbi fruit

One of Marco's students studying at his school in Magazine

Ngonis rehearsing for the Nc'wala Festival, which just passed

A scene of grain vendors taken when road tripping through Malawi

On the last leg of my return trip to Chipata from Nkhata Bay, Malawi

AUGUST 1ST, 2011

Aaaaah. Easing into August was surprisingly enjoyable - must be due to my week long holiday on the shores of the blue, blue Lake Malawi last week. I was able to make the most of my trip out there, where I willingly ensconced myself beneath the shadows of the trees and languished on the veranda of Big Blue Star Backpackers, just a few steps away from the cool water.

Sitting on that veranda, I felt like I was at the edge of an ocean that threatens to drop you as the end of it nears on your unnamed journey, like the depth of the fall at the end of the world in Amy Tan’s book, “The Bonesetter’s Daughter”. Gazing across this expanse of lake, which isn’t really all that big if you look at it on a map, you get the feeling that where I was really is the end of the world, as if there is no continuity. Of course, this perception isn’t true. Somewhere over there on the other side is Tanzania and the island port of Mbamwe (give me a map, someone!). And then, there is also the continuity of there always being something more over there in the beyond.    

One of these days, I’ll write a novel about the culture of backpacking, about the people one inevitably always meet on the road, about their stories of travel, and the inexplicable feeling of certainty, this odd knowing that I’ll see this person again, which has always given me comfort whenever I’ve crossed geographies. Conversations exchanged, mid-travel, also seem more colorful – if not unfinished - when you know that person is moving on in a couple of days. I’ve always found myself to be more than mildly inquisitive about the future direction of their journeys, but as usual was hesitant to ask for details out of fear that I would be thought too nosey. Nosey people are distasteful to some.

Easing into the following week was equally easy, as indicated by the completion of the waste technology cost-benefit report I had been working on over the past two months. Researching and writing the information that would be important for the Council to know was laborious. And finally, just last Wednesday, I finished the final revision of it and printed and bound it the following day. I feel victorious. After the labor of preparing the written report, the presentation will be a breeze. The Council now has something to work with and the members will be able to discuss and plan for waste management using concrete, qualitative and quantitative information.

Since my return from Malawi, I haven’t been able to keep the rest of Africa out of my mind. Maybe my restlessness is attributed to the morsels of braii goat meat I nibbled on somewhere between Nkhotakota and Salima, perhaps it’s due to the backpackers’ tales of their adventures in Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam, or quite possibly because of the written reminders from someone of how cumbersome overland travel can be. Whatever it is, I’m already planning my next trip during Christmas. Bus it to Botswana or take the ferry across to Tanzania? Whatever I choose, I’m certain that the people I meet will be as colorful as the ones I got to know on this last trip.

I’m taking suggestions.

SOME TIME IN MID-JULY . . .

Sunday. Winter has arrived in Chipata Valley and brings with it several days of cold temperatures, gusty winds, and occasional grey, ominous skies. I hear thunder rumbling in the distance today, and the clouds threaten to spill big drops of rain. After several hours, the Valley remains dry and rain-free. Because of the cold, I stayed in my motel room and did some paper work. After two weeks of long weekends, I am ready to work vigorously and catch up on delays in my work. I missed two, self-imposed due dates because of office and personal distractions.
Last Thursday (9^th July), I presented the orientation workshop on the Regional and Urban Planning Bill (2009) for Zambia. I wanted to get the planning staff ready for thinking about what the changes in administration, as required by the Bill, will mean for Chipata Municipal Council planning. The RUP Bill now calls for the production of local plans, which are detailed neighborhood plans to address urban problems. It also calls for sectoral local plans that will serve as planning guides for addressing critical problems in local districts, such as transportation development and unplanned settlements, waste management, etc. I understand that the planning department does not currently write plans; they have relied on the old town and country planning guide, which does not address critical factors afflicting Chipata District. As such, I am thinking about how to best approach the comprehensive planning training planned for August and whether or not to include guidelines on writing urban plans in the training.

The workshop coincided with a Public Works Development Committee (PWDC) meeting, but enough staff attended, which included two people from the Provincial Planning Authority, to make it worthwhile. We also had a pretty good discussion after the orientation. People asked specific questions about elements of the Bill and I felt that we as a team were able to navigate our way through the fuzziness to see clear lines.
Volunteering, I am discovering, is also a collaborative process. Although I have training in some of the capacity needs, I am not an expert in all of them. One example is the ArcGIS training handbook I compiled to respond to the skills need for about three of the planning staff. Although I have been trained on ArcGIS, I am not an expert on database building and have not used the software in seven years. Thus, I need the assistance of a volunteer better at it than I, which forces me to seek out a GIZ volunteer because GIZ tends to bring GIS technicians to Zambia.

Monday. I bound the Local Area Plan for Magazine Squatter Compound today and included the minutes and illustrations to complete the required paperwork. This maneuver follows the guidelines for area plan production under the RUP Bill. I thought adhering to the guidelines was a good way to acclimate the planning staff to the planning practices desired by the Bill and to start new planning habits. On Friday, 15^th June, 2011, I was scheduled to present it to counselors at the Hope Campus School, so I rushed to make 40 copies of the worksheets just so I could make it to my pick-up point on time (16h00) and not have to make the driver wait. However, as it turned out my ride never showed. I waited until 16h22, and then gave up, as the talk was supposed to end at 17h00. Such is the working life at the Council.

Tuesday. I gave a presentation on Integrated Land Use Design to introduce the concept and the models of ILUD to Chipata communities and to the planning department. I discussed some of the ILUD models – green infrastructure, greenways – but talked mainly about the use of permaculture in ILUD. I covered the main principles of permaculture and explained how it connects to ILUD in urban and regional planning. I anticipate incorporating ILUD concepts into the Integrated Development Plan, which I hope will become a central platform by which to think about urban design and environmental improvement in urban areas for the planning department of Chipata Municipal Council.

My presentation preceded the more detailed presentation on permaculture given by Edgar Banda, who received HIS permaculture training in Zimbabwe. I am happy to learn that permaculture teachings are making their way around the world, including sub-saharan Africa. Mr. Banda was quite knowledgeable and was able to give the participants in-depth knowledge about the historical foundation of permaculture and its central tenets and ethics of permaculture.

Friday. I finally finished the small grant for the Japanese Embassy due at the end of this month. Hectic and stressful, so stressful in fact that I ranted during the last few hours! I needed to hitch a ride to Lusaka and my only opportunity is next Monday, which means the grant truly had to be completed by today by 16h00 at the very latest. At least the bulk of the costs are listed in the bill of quantity and if we get the grant, the bill of quantity will be polished. Monday morning, I take off with Richard, a volunteer for GIZ (Germany) and company, for Lusaka and plan to be dropped off at the Japanese embassy. The following morning, I head straight for Lilongwe, Malawi with my passport in hand for a short, four to six day vacation, which I anticipate will refresh me and gear me up to face work, again.

With that, I leave you with a beautiful image of sunset that greets me as I descend into evening in my motel bed, and is the reason the fires of frustration in my heart cool into passive embers. 

Chipata setting