IN THE MONTH OF AUGUST

Of course, my life during any given month in Chipata varies, but not considerably so. The occasional spontaneous occurrence arises and I welcome the change in what is otherwise a reiteration of the previous day.

01/08/11 – “A Capella Concert: Free for Diners”

Although I have complained about some of the goings on at the Chipata Motel, on occasion I run into guests, who add variety to my evenings there. On this particular evening, a group of four women shared a healthy plate of nshima, relish, and a large fried fish, talking in Nyanja or Chewa or Bemba. I couldn’t decipher the language. They interrupted each other, gesturing to the other to take a handful of nshima, dipping their fingers into the steaming, white meat of the fried beem fish. Suddenly, they broke into a song, a capella. A gospel song. Voices in harmony with each other, their lilting tune filled the almost empty restaurant and floated out into the night air. For some, the singing might be a tad annoying, but I enjoyed it, this “free concert”, on this balmy evening.

04/08/11 – “On Slow Days, I Will Ponder”

Sitting in my window office, in front of the second hand desk selected especially for me, I daydream about going for a long drive into Northern Zambia to see mountains and wild monkeys bounding from tree branch to tree branch.

On occasion, I sight a tree monkey, agile body positioned just so, on a bough that reaches across the roof of the Umodzi Restaurant. It is barely visible at times through the mango leaves. It almost escaped my sight the day I saw it, its shape not clear to me until it inched forward. That was when I could make out the silhouette of its arched back, right leg flung out in front of it, his identity made visible only by the powder blue canvass of the sky. I assume this monkey that I see occasionally is the same one I had seen at a previous time.

On slow days, I daydream about other things rather than focusing on the load of work in front of me. On this day, I am trying to move past the section I am writing about the history of urban planning thought, but to no avail. Jane Jacobs is not whom I want to think about today. I don’t want to write about the history of environmental justice today. As such, I procrastinate.

05/08/11 – “Dinners with Nazir”

Nazir, a native Zambian borne of Indian Muslim parents, returned to Chipata in early February to harvest, weigh, package, and trade his prized tobacco crops. His farm is his livelihood and while he grows different fruits, such as oranges, chico, and mangos, his primary trading crop is tobacco. He is in Chipata until the end of this month, and then he heads back to his wife and two young sons in Japan. His wife is a former JICA volunteer, a veterinarian, who now practices successfully in her native land.

I befriended Nazir one late afternoon while walking the familiar length of Umodzi Highway. Heading south towards Lusaka and just before the Total filling station, while chattering to myself in the usual way that I do, Nazir guided his car to a stop beside me and asked in that usual manner of his: “you okay?” He offered to give me a ride back to Chipata Motel, but we ended up at his farm, where we picked chicos and oranges to take home. An offer of a ride home resulted in a dinner invitation. Apparently, his chicken curry was already stewing on the stove and he was willing to share his creation with me.

Nazir is very generous and, apart from the occasional wanton comment so characteristic of the male culture here, is harmless. Enjoying the company of foreigners would describe him appropriately and sharing his food is his way of doing that. My offers to buy him a glass of wine and other goodies are always deflected. What do you give a man who has everything he needs?

Because I can’t cook for myself at the motel without being surrounded by a group of people, I can’t cook what I want to eat. I always readily welcome his invitations to dinner: pizza tonight, curry on another night, and tender, Lusaka steaks on yet another. We gab, I about my job and occasional frustrating occurrences and he filling me in on the cultural rules in Zambia.

These dinners have become a not so regular pattern, but his friendship has become an important element in my life here.

3 August, 2011 – “Lunch with Sebastian”

My semi-spontaneous lunch outing with Sebastian, a graduate student doing his fieldwork in Chipata to study mobile banking, introduced me to “Road Runner”, a restaurant that I had often walked past, but had never gone into. Sebastian told me it is owned and operated by a woman from Mauritius, an island in the Indian Ocean, who makes homemade burgers and protein pies. It was a busy day for me, as I was making some progress on the comprehensive planning training manual, but I go off my usual routine, which consists of a lunch wolfed down at Chef’s Pride. Not only was my chicken sandwich tasty at “Road Runner”, causing me to return for another helping two days later, it gave my taste buds something new to feast on. (Two days later, I ran into Richard at SPAR, a clandestine meeting that resulted in a tea break and another two hours of procrastination).

(Any day in August) – “Personal Growth and Growing Personally”

Spontaneity is not my strong point. I’m a planner. I need to know how events that emerge off-schedule might set me back or impact me in the coming weeks and months. Most times, the spontaneity of the event does not affect me significantly, but I can’t shake the fear of losing control over my work and my schedule, which I set for myself daily. I’m that swimmer hanging on to the buoy far out enough in the ocean from the shoreline to incite fear, sometimes even panic. I also hold grudges, unlike Zambians, as I am told by them.

I go overboard, I know.

As I grow through the month of August, I am learning from the people I meet in Chipata to let go and to not hold onto these notions of perfection I seem to cling to. These spontaneous doings pepper my otherwise regular routine of grabbing a taxi to work, grabbing a morning Joe (coffee to those reading my blog not familiar with Americanisms) at SPAR until 8h30, planning and thinking about the progress of knowledge sharing and awareness, thinking about needed trainings, thinking about the future of planning in Chipata, fantasizing about landscaping designs that would improve the appearance of this burgeoning town, writing reports to guide the planning, and so forth. I hope as I continue to let go slowly by willingly succumbing to these unplanned events, I become less uptight and be more willing to flow with the ebb and wane of human interactions to a degree that feels comfortable to me. On 11 August (Thursday), I learned that I still need to grow by much in this area.   

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

NACHOMA BWANJI IN JULY!

One day in June, SPAR supermarket did not open until 9:00 hours, which drove a wedge in the spoke of the wheel of my daily routines. At exactly 9:00 hours, I left my desk at the Council to seek out my daily coffee at SPAR, but it still hadn't opened. I went in search of the butcher because they too sold coffee there. I used to go there for coffee before SPAR opened, but there is no place to sit comfortably without flies buzzing around my nose and ears. Irritating to someone accustomed to sitting in fly-free cafes. Music is also often not to be found at the butchers. I realized, on the walk back to my office, butcher coffee in hand, how much SPAR filled a void in my life, in which daily trips to pleasant cafes in the Happy Valley had become such a daily norm. Sad to say, but I do crave for the cafe culture; if I had to live without it, I could adjust, but definitely with some difficulty. I also realized, from living in a community practically devoid of cafe culture, just how much independent coffee shops had become an important element of the compendium of daily pleasures in my life – things that one should not do without for too long, in my opinion.

May got me a bloody nose. One morning, I awoke with what I thought was a stuffed nose. To clear it, I got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and tore off a piece of toilet paper, and blew. The blood was bright against the white paper. I blew again, and more blood came out. I began to panic because I couldn't remember how I could have gotten a bloody nose. I hadn't had bloody noses since I was a child. I racked my brain, trying to remember the previous night. I knew, though, that my evening ritual of one glass of wine or beer would not have produced the catastrophe regarding my bloody nose facing me. My first guess is I must have been clobbered on the head. What other reason could there be for my gushing nose? Eventually, the blood cleared and I called my colleague. His reaction was nonplussed. I asked him if he was at the motel last night because if he was, then he might have seen something. “No”, he answered, and then asked, “so you are not coming in?”, as if I had just told him that I had caught a simple cold.

Being clobbered on the head could have been the only cause, in my opinion, as it has happened before in Zambia, while my back was turned. I have a suspicion about who the culprit was, this time and in previous times. This incident, as I have been learning, is merely one of the wacky events that have happened to me. Women are not treated with dignity here, but I have also gradually learned that the circumstances are worse if the woman looks Chinese or is Chinese. I have been told by Zambians that the Chinese are not looked upon with high regard here because of the problem with the low pay of Zambian workers in the Chinese-owned mines. What, though, does that have to do with me? Certainly, on one side of the argument, there are the feelings of resentment because of labor exploitation, but on the other side, there is the gross stereotyping of black haired, Chinese-looking women, who have nothing to do with the mines, let alone authorizing the wge levels of miners. That would be me. Anyway, I am not here as a labor organizer, but as an urban planner.

The bloody nose incident is about as wacky as the fact that I am still living at Chipata Motel, where the food is the same, and I can't control my food intake. I have to tiptoe around one of the cooks, who works seven days a week, because he might take out his resentments on me. This is the cook, whom I might have mentioned in a previous blog, who saturated my relish with salt even though I asked him to not put it in my food (the cause of my stomach pains) and the one, who has consistently served my food at least two hours, sometimes three hours after I have requested it.

My life is not my own here. The agreement about living accommodations, as I was told, was that I would live with other volunteers, possibly by myself, but definitely in my own room. At 41, I would like to have such a luxury, but in Zambia, such agreements are apparently not honored. The failure to honor agreements also spill over into other areas of business in Chipata, as complaints from various Zambians have quite succinctly informed me. And, the bicycle that volunteers living more than 2 kilometers from the place of work are supposed to get, according to the agreement between the partner organization and VSO Zambia, has not materialized four months after the start of my volunteer period.

Which means, I have to spend money on a bicycle, taken out of my monthly allowance of ZK2.2 million (equivalent to US$ 425).

At least I feel very productive in my work. On May 29^th, I submitted my quarterly report to my programme manager and in looking it over, I realized that I had accomplished all of my goals for the first quarter. The upgrade plan for the squatter compound is complete and was presented to representatives from the development committee in the compound on June 9^th. I have set out to follow the policies of the new Regional and Urban Planning Bill, which requires local authorities to allow stakeholders to review an urban or community plan for 30 days. Once more comments are given to me, I can incorporate them into the final draft of the plan. In July, I will be submitting a grant to the Japanese Embassy. The funds from the grant will pay for upgrading the marketplace.Also in July, I plan to go out with the socioeconomic planners to the compound and begin the outreach programs regarding land laws and other regulations.

While my personal life here is very unpredictable, my professional life is pleasantly sailing along and I am accomplishing what I intended to do here, which is to share skills, build capacity, and help prepare the planning department transition towards the Integrated Development Plan.

Just a reminder to those reading my blog, I am fundraising all year for this placement. Please contribute $10, which is easy to do through “My Fundraising Page”, which can be accessed on the left of this blog. Zikomo kwambiri! (I'm learning very easy phrases in Nyanja).

SCENES OF CHIPATA

I spent a good part of Saturday (May 29th) taking photos of different life images of Chipata. The images I selected are a constant in Chipata and give readers an idea of my daily life here.



Young tailor sewing bags

The first set of photographs is of downtown, or what locals call the "down shoppes". The tailor you see to the right is someone I met on Saturday (May 28th), who sews wonderful Zambian bags. They're great for shopping bags and other uses. This particular tailor has a unique style that is different from the other designs I have seen.

 

A busy Saturday in the down shoppes


The down shoppes is extremely busy on Saturdays right before closing down at 12:00 hours. Before then, the streets are teeming with cars and cars coming around corners block traffic. But it's not unbearable. I love the down shoppes during this time - people hurried, Saturday classes for the Muslim students in the Chingolo School. 

Then, once 12:00 hours strikes, the

Knock off time

streets go empty. The entire vernacular looks like a ghost town; not one person can be found among the shoppes except around the Jami Mosque, where the Muslims come and get ready for the evening prayer at 17:00 hours.

The Jami Mosque was built in 1963, paid for by the Muslim community. Many of the Muslims are Indians, who were brought to Zambia during the time of British Colonialism to work in the mines and in agriculture. Today, they make up a large percentage of the entrepreneurs in the down shoppes and in the center of town, owning restaurants, tailor shoppes, electronic stores, stationery shoppes, etc. Those who have succeeded live in the middle income to upper middle income community, called Little Bombay.

Jami Mosque

The Eastside Mall, diagonal to the building where I work, Old Chipata Municipal Council, is shopping central for Chipata. People come from all over to do their weekly shopping here, even as far away as Nyimba, Katete, and Mambwe. A bus comes once or twice a week and shuttles people from these more rural areas into Chipata center and back. SPAR is located in this mall and ShopRite is only another ten minute walk down Umozi Highway towards Malawi. Public transportation serving towns in the Eastern Province is truly lacking. At best, buses make return trips to far away places, Like Lusaka, Botswana, and some not so far away, like Malawi.

Eastside Mall

Other developments occurring around Chipata are roads paving projects and a new gas station in the process of being erected.

Newly paved Road

Tourism is also a growing industry in the area, although there doesn't appear to be a written plan about how and to what extent the Chipata Council wants to grow tourism. Most of the accomodations are small-scale motels. There is a youth hostel, named Deans, and a 5-Star hotel, Protea, is within walking distance of Chipata Motel and Chipembele Lodge. Expensive, though. A pot of coffee costs a whopping ZK20,000.

Maize is a staple crop and Chipata is home to many mills manufacturing factories in the vicinity. One, Rainbow Milling, sits on Lundazi Road, just across from the Chipata Motel, where I live.

Also on Lundazi are numerous street vendors, which pose a problem to some local residents, who grumble over vendors blocking the sidewalks. Understandable, but the population growth is happening much too quickly for the Council to respond adequately. Mainly, vendors are forced to sit on bamboo mats along major highways in order to make a living because they cannot afford to pay the rental prices for retail space. On Umozi Highway in Luwangwa, a basket village (I name I gave it) just explodes with baskets. It seems to be a pit stop for tourists on buses. Basket village is just one example of how difficult it is to accomodate street vendors with appropriate retail space. 

The uploading of these photos has taken me quite some time. The harddrive capacity on my netbook isn't really made for uploading large files. Thus, I've compiled some of them on the Kodak Slide Show, which can be accessed through this URL:

 http://www.kodakgallery.com/gallery/creativeapps/slideShow/Main.jsp?facebook=true&sourceId=984136008703

CLOSING THE CHAPTER ON MAY AND TRANSITIONING INTO JUNE

Sunday (22 May) was such a lovely day that I felt inspired to broadcast it. My friend, Richard, asked me to accompany him and his “family” on a brief hike up Kanjala Hill to get a hillside view of Chipata town. The view was breathtaking. I could see clear across along the mountain chain across to the Malawi side of Chipata. Malawi is just twenty minutes away from Chipata; the easiest way to get there is by taking Malawi Road, which leads directly to Mchinji, another squatter community (I think), inside Malawi.

On the other side of the part of Kanjala Hill that we were standing on is the Lutembwe Dam, a central drinking water source for the town. Surrounding Lutembwe Dam are acres and acres of forests, which not surprisingly are being cut down to make way for residential development, which seems to grow at a rate as fast as Amherst.

The director of the planning department in Chipata still has not sat down with me to talk about the extent and magnitude of development of Chipata into a city. There is clearly a need to complete the visioning process, as the city continues to grow outward in a way that spells potential environmental problems for the town. The lack of response to my review of the current planning document – over one month, now – implies futuristic, responsible planning might not be a priority for the Council. Instead, planning goes on as usual, which normally consists of identifying land spaces for parceling into plots, which are later sold to interested homeowners.

I have a desire to get into Malawi, but for now I have to be content with discovering Chipata. I haven't seen much of it, yet. I don't have a bike – so, I am on foot. The most I have seen of it so far is the Lundazi Road area and the town center. At best, I have gotten a bird's eye view of the area. I keep saying I'll walk to Malawi, but probably not this week. Perhaps this weekend . . .

The day was just stunning. The temperature was perfectly breezy; the afternoon sun hot on my shoulders and Richard, I, and his adopted family engaging in easy, conversations that were both focused and scattered. Richard and I, of course, tended to dominate the air with our complaints about the lethargy of Zambia, while the members of his family talked amongst themselves. The road was unpaved, which made walking downhill a little tricky. But, in a peculiar way, I liked periodically losing my footing as the iron-red gravel rolled around loosely beneath the soles of my Keen sandals.

Richard had thought far ahead, loading the trunk of his car with fruits, candy, and water. After snacking on them atop Kanjala, we all stopped at the fancy Protea Hotel for lunch, where his family met up with the children's mother, an employee at the hotel. Protea, an international 5-Star hotel, boasts a pool, probably the only one in Chipata. They all went swimming except for a handful of us. I languished on one of the plastic recliner chairs at pool side. I saw two sister's flapping about in the water, whose joyous, teasing laughter reminded me of Phoebe Prince and her sister, Lauren.

I have finally polished off my quarterly report for the VSO program office in Lusaka. Once I filled in all the boxes, I realized I had done more work than I realized. Perhaps doing all that work in a matter of three months is the reason my emotions continue to wax and wane: on most days, I feel I am having the time of my life and am having the best experience, while on the occasional nadir, I feel Zambia is the worst international experience I have ever had. I hope to stabilize my roller coaster heart in the second quarter by focusing more on the small things that I am accomplishing and less on the large, more difficult projects that are planned. Oh, and staying away from the evening news might help, as the news has endless reports about corruption, with the elections so near.

During the last two weeks of May, I learned how to use the total station. Well, “learned to use” is a bit of an exaggeration. I learned how to align the total station to a 90 degree angle, measured by the perfect positioning of a tiny infrared light on the head of a metal beacon, and learned which buttons I would have to adjust in order to make sure that the elevation and balance of the machine matched that of the land. I haven't been taught how to read the important symbols, but at least for now Mr. Total Station is no longer a mystery to me, thanks to my colleague, Paul. I still prefer the thinking part of planning, but the quick lesson on the total station gave me a general overview of its utility, which are distance, spatial depth, and plane coordinates.

I have finally bought a basic Kodak camera. I am still trying to work out why the camera is not charging my inserted battery. The model is an M550. I followed the instructions, but nothing. The light doesn't even flash. Once the camera begins functioning, I promise to get those photos posted onto this blog. In the meantime, please visit “My Fundraising Page” to the left of today's blog.

Thanks!

Labor Day Celebrations

Labor Day holiday today, which means no work. Yesterday, some of the Council staff and invited participants marched in the streets in support of workers. Back at the motel, where Council staff and others arrived to eat, there was a huge celebration. I gathered this from the hooting, laughing, and clapping. Too bad I missed it; I was busy preparing my chiwawa leaves for drying.

Like in the United States, workers are given due thanks and appreciation for running the government, the economy, public services, etc. So, we should all give ourselves a big pat on the back for being commemmorated in such an important holiday celebration.

The motel is hosting another conference, which I think is part of K-International. The organization is doing some work with HIV/AIDS education in Chipata District and have been lodging at the motel over the weekend. The restaurant was crowded and it was hard to tell if I was supposed to eat from the buffet or not. I got up early to eat breakfast, believing all of the participants had departed for their homes, but it turned out that the buffet had not yet been served. I hate getting worked up over food, but even when I ask the kitchen staff about my meal, I often don't get the answers. This has happened on a few occasions with large conference participants in the motel. I also hate feeling aggravated when I don't know how I am supposed to eat because when I feel that way, I often sound that way. At the same time, if I don't push, the motel staff do not accommodate. It would be nice to live in a house, either shared or my own. At least I would not be regularly sharing it with 60 other people and I would be able to cook as soon as I got home from work. I would also be able to prepare my own meals without having to rely on the kindness of strangers.

Last Friday, I sent off the comprehensive proposal plan for the squatter community to the Commissioner of Lands. I believe I had mentioned this project in a previous blog. I anticipate hearing from him in two weeks. I hope the three plans related to land valuation and upgrading are approved. That way, I can start working on discussing the details with other Council planners and finalizing the logistics. Grants, too, can subsequently be written to fund those projects.

The rest of my work is flowing along smoothly. I also just finished the first draft of the Excel training handbook, which was requested by one of the socio-economic planners. These trainings, so far, are aimed at sharing skills for studies of urban and peri-urban problems, as mandated under the Urban Planning Act. This Act replaces the Town and Country Planning Act and the Zambian government is seeking to implement this new Act at the district level. To that end, I am attempting to develop another training that orients the planning department at the Council of the legislative changes in planning approaches. I am having some problems with the structure of the training, as I don't want the contents to be redundant. Otherwise, I'll put people to sleep. My goal is to facilitate the transition of the way planning staff think about planning, shifting their thinking away from viewing planning as strictly a process about parceling and selling land and building regulations and towards thinking about it in terms of an integrated and comprehensive process. More about that in another blog.

I continue to fundraise for this placement. USD$2,000.00 is my minimum benchmark. If you so feel inclined, please send in your donations via the “My Fundraising Page”. Thank you.