Returning Home

And so today my African Adventure is over. Today I get on a plane in the heat of summer, twist and turn for 15 hours trying to get comfortable, and step off into the frigid air of a New England winter.

But in many ways this is not my African Adventure, and in just as many ways I am not returning home. Because this past year and a half has been our African Adventure and I have been lucky enough to bring my home alongside.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, home is a funny concept. Ask a child to draw home and they will draw a house, a nice solid building to represent home. As you grow, and travel, and lose the people who once made that house a home, you begin to realize what a tricky thing this thing called home is. That the feeling of home doesn’t have the reassuring permanence of bricks and mortar, and that it is not invincible against time.

In many ways I have been unfortunate. I face the prospect of returning home with ambiguity because the home I know is in the past. I haven’t lived in my home country in over four of the most defining years of my life, and I fear that we won’t be a good fit anymore, me and the good ole’ U S of A. In those last four years I have lost many of the people who made that country a home – the faces, smells, sounds and traditions of the home I knew so well are now gone.

And yet in so many ways I have been lucky. Because if, as we all inevitably do, I have lost the home of my childhood, I have been fortunate enough to have found someone who to me has represented home long before we walked down the aisle. And, unlike the solid building of a house, I get to take him alongside. I have been lucky because throughout this whole experience I have not had to feel alone. Throughout the traveling and the unknowns and the frustrations I have had my best friend by my side. And so I always knew everything would be okay. Because wherever we went, we were always home.

And so today our African Adventure ends and I am looking forward to returning to the country of my birth to see my family. As for finding a more solid foundation for this funny thing called home, well, that’s our next adventure.

Happy Anniversary Brian…it has been a surprising adventure.

"Out of service, out of Africa, I wouldn't hang about!"

And so we are outta here. No visa, no service. No service, no Africa. After four weeks hanging around Zambia we decided we couldn’t wait any longer for the visa process to work itself out. And, although generously offered, we decided we couldn’t commit to starting yet another new project in Zambia. To be honest, had we waited I think our visa would have been hanging in limbo-land indefinitely, word on the street is that for political reasons the government and the country is starting to turn a bit anti-foreigner. Not a great road to go down.

And so we ended our stay in Zambia with a Korean night reminiscent of the mountain, of course with delicious Korean food. After which we spent a fantastic and memorable week at Victoria Falls. Two days of relaxation in Livingston where we met a crazy Danish biker who is trying to break the world record of biking from Cairo to Cape Town by 40 days – we accidentally delayed him by one day due to our lovely personalities and an excess of drink but I am confident he will make up the time = ). Followed by three days of a proper backpacker holiday with Zach and Sammi who had come up from Mozambique, which was a blast, although it took me another three days to recover. Lots of laughs, lots of stories and one less than thought through incident where Sammi and I tried to ‘save’ a sex worker in a local pub who asked for our help while Zach and Brian tried to fend off the guys angry at the intruding white girls. We’ll chalk it up to an experience.

While I still think we could have done good work at the project in Katima, at the end of the day it was mentally exhausting holding onto a project while at the same time letting go of it, and so in the end I had to let go. And after having spent a few days at the project wrapping things up and handing things over, I feel okay in walking away. I think that all the frustrations, anger, and tears were worth it because during our last week in Katima I began to think that our time there had made a difference, and that, partly as a direct result of our presence, the project will continue to improve.

This wasn’t always the case. Had we left Namibia in September I would have considered our experience a failure. I would have had no confidence in the leaderships ability to implement the changes we had begun or to manage the project. However, in large part due to our pain-in-the-assery of constantly voicing (legitimate) concerns over the project, the head office has made some staffing changes. Anna, our project leader and Laimi the administrator have been relocated to a project closer to the head office and its direct supervision. Three new staff members, all with experience and all seemingly very competent have started working at the project. We were only able to work with them for a few days but I am very encouraged by their management skills, their organization, and their motivation. Melody, the new Project Leader, would have liked us to stay much longer, and was extremely open to our ideas and opinions. I have every confidence in her ability to start turning the project around. She got on board immediately to the new systems we had started to implement and I believe that, with the new staff at the project, the systematic and environmental changes that we struggled to make Anna see were necessary will stand a good chance of lasting. And so with this new development we were able to leave the project with a clear conscience and a feeling that our presence and our work at the project had been worthwhile and hopefully, sustainable.

At the moment I am transitioning, quite comfortably, back into the West. When we left Katima we left Africa behind. We are now spending our last week on the Namibian coast in Swakopmund, which reminds me more of Disney World’s version of Germany than anything African I have ever seen. The food is delicious, the beds are comfortable, the electricity and water works without fail, and the prices, to my culture shocked eyes, are astronomical. But we are enjoying ourselves. The dunes of the Namib Desert are beautiful in an other-worldy kind of way and we have enjoyed them in pretty much every way possible. I decided to jump out of a plane over them, we took a Living Desert Tour (spoken entirely in German) through them, and Brian is currently flying over them at breakneck speeds in a quad bike. Oh, the joys of nature. In addition, the other day we went sea kayaking amongst the dolphins, flamingos and seal colonies on the coast, which was a sheer privilege.

And so our African Adventure is drawing to a close. We are truly out of service, out of Africa, but in many ways I would love to hang about just a little longer…

See you at Thanksgiving!

TCE Mazabuka, Zambia

TCE Mazabuka, Zambia. It seems we are the only DI’s on the four country plan. Our stay here at this project makes this our fifth project in the last eight months, and our fourth country to do work in since we arrived in Africa. Our African Adventure certainly hasn’t gone as planned, hasn’t been what I expected, but then if it had been I guess it wouldn’t have been an adventure.

Mazabuka is a medium sized town two hours south of Zambia’s capital, Lusaka in the Southern Province. It, like Katima, is basically a one street town with a few small shops, a pharmacy, and a big grocery store; the one luxury is the pizza restaurant on the corner. The TCE project here is the only TCE project in the country and it is treated as a model project – as a result it gets many visitors both international and governmental. In truth it is a bit of a model project which was very refreshing and a bit shocking when we first arrived. Brian and I signed up as volunteers with Humana / DAPP, whatever you want to call it because we specifically wanted to work with its TCE program – it seemed like the best designed and most potentially sustainable program we could find. I am still positive that every TCE program benefits the communities they are in, that the communities are better off for having the program, but the impact the project has in a given area depends heavily on how professionally and competently it is run. Katima has a long way to go but is getting on the right track. I have now seen the potential that the TCE program has from being here in Mazabuka and for that I am glad that I came to Zambia. The Mazabuka TCE is run as close to the way the literature says it does as is possible. The staff here are mature, motivated and capable and the Field Officers seem to be making a real concerted difference in their communities in a pretty holistic way, from working with headman, clinic officers and local schools to educating, testing and arranging for care and support to community members. I have taken a lot of notes here.

Although we are not this projects DI’s we have not been sitting around. In the three short weeks that we have been here we have managed, I’m not sure how, to become the go-to DI’s even though the project has three of their own DI’s here. Two days into our trip the whole office had to arrange for a last minute visit from a CDC representative (Fun Fact: the American CDC funds A LOT of things in Africa, including most of the TCE projects. Who knew? They also are largely responsible for most of the free healthcare and medication in Namibia, which I think is very important but can’t help but notice that my government is paying for almost universal healthcare for Namibians while I, an American citizen, do not have health insurance and cannot afford healthcare at home). Anyway, Brian was asked to go into the field to make sure everything was ready for the representatives and he ended up kind of taking over on that end. The next day the two of us accompanied the Project Leader and the representatives in the office and during their short field visit where they sat in on a testing session and heard from some TCE Passionates. It was a great experience for me not only to meet someone from the CDC but to see how these things work.

During our stay here we have also been trying to transfer some of our knowledge and things that we have been working on in the various countries we have been to. Last Wednesday we taught a course about the link between HIV and poverty, which in large part explains why the HIV epidemic is so disproportionately in Southern Africa. We taught the course to TCE Peer Educators, who are community members who earn a stipend to do things like teach courses to high risk populations like migrant workers. Some of the Peer Educators themselves are former sex workers who have given up the trade after getting involved with TCE, which I think is pretty cool.

I think the most important thing we have done during our time in Zambia has been to introduce our database system to the project. During our field visits we both noticed that the one weakness of the project was in monitoring and evaluation – for the most part Field Officers are doing their job but there is no paperwork to back up their statistics, meaning there is huge room for making stuff up. The management here, unlike in Namibia, was more than open to our suggestions and we pitched our system to the entire staff, who liked it. So we trained four staff members on how to use the system and are in the process of setting it up here. They are going to roll the system out for the whole project, which will be three Troops. The database system is boring and a pain to set up but I am convinced that it will make a huge difference in the monitoring and evaluation abilities of the project. It is not glamorous or heart-wrenching development work but I think it is sustainable project development work that justifies the presence of skilled Western volunteers, something which I have sometimes questioned.

The rollout of our database system here in Zambia also in a way makes things come full circle as we near the end of our trip. I first started developing a basic database system in Outapi as a way of familiarizing myself with the project. In Katima Brian and I introduced it as well and started linking information to make the information more usable. It is nice to know that even though we have been moved from project to project and haven’t been able to stay at a project long enough to do big things, the work that we have done hasn’t been for nothing. In fact, almost all the things we have developed throughout the various pit stops on this journey have proved useful elsewhere. Thus the Basic Business Course we started working on in IICD and developed fully in South Africa was used to train Support Group members in Outapi and will be given to the project management here in Zambia to use to train their clients. And the practice lesson on HIV and Behavior Change that we spent days working on in Massachusetts has been taken apart and refitted to make countless lessons on Basic HIV, HIV and Poverty, and Positive Living courses that have reached hundreds and hundreds of people. So it is a good feeling that the weeks and weeks of doing boring database work in Outapi and Katima is not for nothing. Perhaps the irony of this strange adventure is that after training for work in Namibia the greatest sustainable impact we will have had in Africa will have been in the strengthening of monitoring and evaluation systems in Zambia.

P.S. News about our visa and timescale in Africa should be coming soon.

The Western Wuss

By 10.30AM two years ago, in October 2008, I would have gotten myself to work, checked my email, opened the post, and had my cup of tea and toast with the girls. By 10.30AM last year, in October 2009, I would most likely be standing outside of a Wal-Mart, jar in hand filled with maybe $25 in coins and $1 bills if I was lucky. In my hand would be a sign reading “Help Africa”. I don’t know exactly how I am helping Africa here in Mazabuka, Zambia, except maybe by observing its seemingly successful TCE project in the hopes of learning enough here to help our project in Katima.

This year, 14th October 2010, it is 10.30AM. So far today I have eaten a breakfast of nshima and sausage, observed Peter, a Field Officer, give an HIV test to a (thankfully HIV negative) man at the clinic, met the village meadman, tried my hand at Tonga, the local language (“Mabagabute…Kabuto” / Good morning…I am fine…) to the amusement of many local people, and walked one and a half hours in the 95F/39C degree heat to begin our day of VCT (Voluntary Counseling and Testing). What in the world will I be doing in October 2011?

For a continent so often portrayed as a single country, it is interesting how unique each country and people are. Three hours drive down a dirt road from the nearest town, I find myself in Nkonkola for a two night field visit. It is the furthest out into the bush that I have ever been and feels completely isolated. It is very similar to what I have seen in the field in Namibia, and yet it is different. While the landscape is as African-esque as Namibia, it is at the same time completely different. It is a landscape of undulating hills and red sand roads, the pale yellows and browns of the grasses and fields dotted with picture perfect green mango trees, almost cartoon like in their roundness and fullness. In many ways it reminds me of South Africa or even parts of Spain. The homesteads are different too. Not as beautiful as the mopane fenced compounds of Owamboland but neater and more established to many of the ones I am used to seeing in Caprivi. They are comprised of many red circular thatched huts and raised chicken and goat pens made of yellow straw. There is at least one tree in the yard to give shade and innumerable short squat wooden stools to bring over for us visitors – they look scarily unstable but are surprisingly worn and comfortable and I want to take some home.

The people in Zambia are incredibly friendly. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t incredibly awkward moments. Because there are. My tolerance for awkwardness seems to be improving. The trick is to breathe through it. But in general I have found the people to be warm, hospitable, and above all, they have a sense of humour, a sense of life. In the week and a half I have been here in Zambia I think I have known more people better than in the three months I have spent in Katima. Which, in a way, makes me feel a little better, as if its not my fault, not some anti-social or unlikeable personality trait that has led to us not getting very close to many local people or people at the project. For instance, Kabwe, who we live with, cooks dinner for us every night and showed us her family picture album, including seven siblings who have died, six of whom I am pretty sure have died of AIDS (side note: when you start talking to people, it is amazing just how widespread and pervasive this disease is for the people and the countries of sub-Saharan Africa).

But while incredibly friendly, the people here are still different, and I have been confronted with out different worldviews more bluntly here in this village than in the towns I have spent most of my time in since arriving in Africa. I knew that Africa is an extremely religious continent but this was brought home to me within my first half hour here when Stanley, a Field Officer, asked me, “So what Church do you belong to?” “None” I replied. Normally people say Oh, and move on or look vaguely amused at the novelty of it all, but Stanley just looked at me blankly and said, “Why?”. How do you answer that? I’ve actually never been asked that question in that way before – he wasn’t asking because he was curious, he was asking because he genuinely didn’t understand. His understanding of the world didn’t allow for someone to not have some sort of religion. Later that night, a similar differing in understanding about the basic things in life occurred, again phrased with the same single word and the same meaning. “How many children do you have?” asked one of the guys who works at the clinic. Not do you have children, but how many. “None” I replied. Again, the blank expression, not of curiosity or confusion but of incomprehension. “Why?” he asked.

Still, while I don’t know the intricacies or complications of their lives, there is something admirable in how comfortable and accepting people seem to be in the routines of their lives. And I in no way mean that in a condescending way. While I, at age 26, have travelled and studied and still don’t know who I am or how I want to shape my life, those here without the luxury of the ability to seek ‘self-fulfillment’ simply get on with life. And maybe, in the process, discover it themselves.

I sit here on a stool dripping in sweat, recovering from my day of trekking this hilly, sweltering hot land in my expensive REI Keens and backpack full of Nalgenes, feeling pretty proud of myself for having survived, for successfully ‘roughing it’. And as I sit here I watch as a woman maybe five years my junior with a baby tied to her back pumps water into a 10 litre jerry can, lifts it onto her head and walks straight backed down a path to her home in the 100 degree heat. This simple action that the woman probably performs two times a day is, to me, admirable. There is no sign of dissatisfaction or complaint about the extreme physical exertion; I am sure to her her world makes sense. The unconscious strength of the young woman so at ease in her life, in her environment stands in stark contrast to my seemingly perpetual state of limbo, both here in Africa and in my life.

Because all of us DI’s are in our own ways Western wusses, here to teach and to learn but also observe another way of life that is foreign to us. I both enjoy and struggle with field visits. I like meeting people, laughing with people as they laugh at my attempts at the local language, I like waving at the kids gathered round me wherever I go, sending them into peals of laughter as they sprint away, I like to meet the people whose lives are directly effected by all the theory I have read about both on HIV/AIDs and the TCE program, I like to help someone in my own small way by giving advice about nutrition or clean water. I do not like the conditions. I am a wuss, my body is a wuss, and Africa is not going to change that. Today’s five hour excursion in the 100 degree heat under an dunrelenting sun was tough. Even though I drank almost 2 litres of water, by hour three I was dreaming of iced tea. As I sat under a tree on a well-worn stool, observing Peter test a client for HIV (10 people tested today, all thankfully HIV negative) as the conversation in Tonga swirled around me, I couldn’t stop thinking about my Aunt Liz’s fridge. The white beacon of coolness loomed in front of me. It represented the chilled blueberries, bananas and yogurt that I knew were there if only I could open it. Walking the one and a half hours back to Nkonkola, I watched Peter swing the small green cooler that held all his VCT testing supplies and was transported to summer days at the beach. Coolers full of cold drinks. Grapes. Watermelon. And most tempting – a chilled, perfectly ripe peach. Mmmmmm. Yes, I am a wuss.

The Daily Grind

It’s been a while since I last wrote because I have actually been busy working the last two weeks. I know, weird. I thought I would take a break from the internal self-analyzation of the last few weeks and give an update about the work I have been doing here in Katima for the last two and a half months.

Pardon the cliché, but the last two months have been full of ups and downs. Hardly a week has gone by when either Brian or I have not seriously considered packing it in and going home. The reasons are varied but ultimately tied up with the project – feeling like we are not making any progress, resistance or internal problems within management, or just being sick of the drama that is the result of poor organization and communication. Throughout it all we have tried to maintain focus on our goal of getting the job done and have tried to do this by being as open and honest as possible, a strategy which has often come back to bite us in the proverbial ass. As a last resort before giving up and leaving the project we have had to write to the head office on two separate occasions, once with serious concerns about the project and once with a set of constructive steps to take in order to get the project in working order again. These emails ended up causing a whole lot of drama and stress but I think in the end succeeded in clearing the air and kick-starting what I hope will be some concrete improvements.

As I have said before Brian and I were brought to Katima to help sort out a failing program, build the capacity of the management, and improve some of the statistics. On top of trying to focus on what have turned out to be some really hard tasks, for the last two months the project has been in a state of flux starting sometime in August with the news that the project would be closing in September instead of February. The reality that we understand now is that the CDC (American funding) is ending our 3 year funding as of tomorrow, 30th September and sometime in October we will start receiving a new set of funding for a new 5 year program. This is somewhat exciting as the TCE program in Namibia is the first TCE program to ever go past its usual 3 year timetable – a sign that we are being effective enough for donors to want us to keep going. Suffice to say, however, that getting information about this new program is like pulling teeth and the way that it was presented to the Field Officers was abhorrent and unprofessional to say the least. Enter the drama, uncertainty, and confusion of the past month and a half.

But the past is the past so let me explain the future. This TCE Phase 2 funded by the CDC is much more focused than the TCE Phase 2 funded by the Global Fund that Brian and I worked with in Omusati. Starting in October, our 50 Field Officers will go through some fairly intensive training to become government certified Community Counselors who can do field testing. TCE will be the first nonprofit program allowed to do field testing in Namibia, something which the CDC has been pushing the government to allow for a long time. It’s kind of a big deal. It will make a huge difference on the ground, since bringing HIV testing and counseling to people’s homes will remove many of the barriers to getting tested that exist today. It’s also a huge responsibility and incredibly important that we get this right. Because of this Brian and I pushed for a review of our current Field Officers, since after three years the motivation level amongst our Troop is at an all time low while the cheating level is at an all time high. The result was that yesterday after our End of Year Celebration Anna, Fortune, Brian and I sat with each Field Officer individually and had to fire 15 people. It is certainly a new experience and skill set but I have to say not a nice one.

The new program starts in mid October leaving us with just two weeks to advertise, interview and hire 16 new Field Officers, learn about the new system and develop a transition plan, and develop systems to work out the kinks in the old way of doing things. I have been working hard to stress to management the importance of these last two things and we will soon see if my badgering will pay off. The next month therefore is hugely crucial to the successful implementation of the project over the next five years – we have to start strong and organized. Unfortunately, our Namibian visa expires next Wednesday and we still do not know if our extension application (which we submitted over two months ago) has been approved. So there is a good chance that come next Wednesday Brian and I will have to leave the country and there is also the chance that it will be for quite a bit of time. If this happens then we will not be here to guide the transition. It is an exercise in letting go of control.

On the positive side, despite stretching my patience and frustration boundaries to the limits, I think I can unmodestly say that after only two and a half months in Katima we are starting to see improvements in the way things are run here. Perhaps fitting to the way Brian and I view the world, our impact here in Africa will not be in the number of toilets built or projects started but in the improved running of one single project that has the ability to touch the lives of 100,000 people.

After two and a half months here we are starting to see a difference in how people approach things. Anna is finally starting to trust us and work more closely with us, which, if we end up staying here for the next six months, will make everyone’s life easier. Fortune, our Troop Commander, has proved incredibly open to learning new things, takes our advice on board and runs with it. As a result his manner with the Field Officers is becoming much less gruff and more productive. The staff here has warmed up to us and our working relationship is much, much better as a result. We have started doing basic computer courses with the management here and most of them actually complete the ‘homework’ we give them to practice their powerpoint, excel, etc skills! In general Troop Meetings are less excruciatingly painful because with Brian and I to both intervene and lead by example there seems to be less yelling and lectures, a leadership style that seems to be very common in Africa (I can’t wait to do some teambuilding activities and leadership courses). Slowly statistics are starting to become more realistic (I think). Field Officers, who were afraid to speak during Troop Meetings for fear of being scolded like children or flat out yelled at, have started to trust us, Brian especially, and come to us for help and advice. (This is a start but we have to work on getting them to trust their actual management – we have leadership courses planned for October if we end up staying here). At our urging, they have also started to form more Support Groups, Trios, Men’s Clubs, etc. something that I am very passionate about. This month we all managed to do 6 Trio trainings, teaching about 300 people – most of who are HIV + - about the importance of getting support, adhering to their ARVs, and having strong bodies, minds and spirits.

These things aren’t earth shattering developments but in their own small ways I think they will make a lasting difference. While I still do not love Katima, I think that it is important that we stay here for the next six months if we can. The next six months will be crucial to the next five years of this project and to our ability to change people’s lives in this region that has an HIV prevalence rate of 39.1%. If we can cement these small changes and build on them over the next six months I will leave feeling like I have accomplished something. It will not be as personally satisfying as say, watching a child shower for the first time ever, but I think it will be genuine sustainable positive change and hopefully will renew my confidence in this thing called sustainable development.

Mid-term Report: Taking Stock

The African climate to date has been one of little extremes – cloudless blue skies and sunshine daily – the only changes being a sudden heat wave with the end of winter and the gradual drying out of the landscape. For one used to the changing of the seasons, this constant weather has made my time here seem like one long month. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that while I have been here at home the snow has melted, the trees have turned fluorescent with youth, then a stately mature green, and are now preparing to turn the colors of fall. In a way, I can sympathize with the African propensity for focusing on the now and not planning ahead, because for me the year 2010 has snuck by unnoticed and all of a sudden I find myself in September.

It has been just over six months since I sat in the hostel in New York the night before we left on our African Adventure, excited but nervous and not knowing what to expect. The first three days in Africa are a blur in my memory of exhaustion, dehydration and travel from NYC to Johannesburg to Maputo. That first day, Brian, Zach, Orlando and I huddled together amongst our mountain of luggage in the Johannesburg bus station, seems like such a long time ago. Since those first days Brian and I have seen more of Southern Africa than we ever expected, worked in four different projects, and faced many challenges.

I have spent the last few days going over old entries, reliving this experience from the tortuous days of fundraising all the way to the present. And I have surprised myself with how far I have come, how much I have grown, and how much my own struggles and personal insights of the past have helped to guide and refocus me now.

I had forgotten how passionate and excited I was about this trip. I kept referring to this year as the ‘adventure of a lifetime’; my African Adventure. I spoke passionately and somewhat assuredly about achieving positive change, and how I would participate in effective development. And, in my very first post, I challenged myself to live up to two of my father’s quotes, to

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“Think like a person of action, act like a person of thought”
And
“Wonder, rather than doubt, is the root of knowledge”
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So, six months into this so called African Adventure, where am I now?

Sometime over the last six months I forgot that I was in the middle of the adventure of a lifetime. This is partly because at some stage my African Adventure stopped being shiny and new and just became life. Living in Africa, like living in any new country, has been a blend of the exotic and the ordinary. I find myself at times struck with the knowledge that I am actually living in Africa, that these scenes straight out of a documentary are my reality and are now part of my life story. Most days though, life is life. No matter where you live, day to day living is much the same – while not exotic or exciting our week consists of sitting in an office, grocery shopping, cooking, and doing laundry. The only difference might be raking our sand yard instead of cutting the grass; same as at home though, we don’t do it nearly often enough.

Development-wise, the last six months have been full of growing pains. I came to Africa with a keen interest in and loosely formed ideas about development. Having written my masters thesis on the concept of sustainable development I was interested to see examples of it on the ground and to try my hand at it myself. Unlike Brian, who is ambivalent about the necessity or wisdom of aid, I was fairly certain that aid was necessary if undertaken in a grassroots, sustainable way. I explained away many of the problems of sub-Saharan Africa by citing colonialism, civil war, lack of infrastructure, lack of education, man-made borders, and the havocs wrought by the Cold War, neglecting to include both aid itself or to hold Africans themselves to account in the equation. Unlike some volunteers, who come here seeking a new experience and the chance to do a little good, I came here in large part to develop myself professionally, and I am now certain that I will leave this continent more confused and uncertain about development and aid than when I entered it.

Sometime in late October, after taking part in an inspiring course on HIV/AIDs, I wrote passionately and confidently that “Teaching the basic facts is one thing, but motivating people, facilitating knowledge, leading and teaching how to lead others, that can change lives. That is how development is done”. To an extent, I still believe these words, although I am not nearly as confident in their feasibility as I was 10 months ago. MUCH easier said than done, past Kim. Brian and I are slowly, SLOWLY seeing progress on these fronts. The fact is that setting up a health clinic, showers, toilets and mosquito nets for the children of Cidadela may end up being the most personally rewarding part of my time here on this continent. But I still believe that this buzzword capacity building is our best chance at making a lasting, if small, difference. Building the capacity of a set of people means giving them the tools to do things for themselves, and I think it is one of the hardest things I will ever do. Teaching leadership, people management, time management, computer skills, etc. in a formal school setting where everyone shows up knowing their roles is easy. Try doing that when they don’t know you’re doing it.

So how do I judge these first six months of living in Africa, these first six months of doing development work? There is no one answer and I do not think there ever will be. The last six months has been a life experience and one that I do not, at this stage in the game, think that I will regret. It has been full of frustration, extreme anger, and confusion. It has been one full of sincere gratitude, awe and wonder. I have had many anecdotal experiences that I will carry with me for the rest of my life and a few rewarding little tidbits where I got to help some people. I have met some friendly people but also have been struck down at times by what I suppose are cultural differences and at times severe ignorance and bigotry.

I had come here with the vague notion, naively, that I would return home a different person; that I would have a hard time returning to the West because somehow my years experience in the Developing World would fundamentally alter my world view. Somewhat surprising to me, this has not happened. While forevermore I will be able to qualify my privileged reality with the broader reality of the world, I still want much the same things in life as before – economic security, a home, vacations, retirement. And there is some guilt in that fact.

The bottom line is that much of my time here has been a struggle. A struggle to find my place in my work. A struggle to create a life here, to create a sense of balance between work and life amidst a growing internal pressure to achieve something. A struggle against forming blanket negative stereotypes about Africa and Africans (or Namibia and Namibians) while at the same time not excusing everything away and holding people to account. A struggle to learn patience within myself. A struggle to maintain positivity and learn to make myself happy regardless of the circumstances. An everlasting struggle to achieve something concrete. And an ideological struggle with the concept of development, and my place within it.

The problem with ceasing to frame this experience as an Adventure is that immediately the mind narrows. Cultural and project flaws that I viewed as challenges to learn to understand and overcome in Mozambique and even in Outapi have become obstacles and annoyances here in Katima. I have become bogged down in my work, succumbed to a self-imposed pressure to achieve something and forgotten to view this as a learning experience, as an Adventure. I came here determined to view the world with wonder, to maintain an openness to things I didn’t understand or agree with, because the alternative is doubt, or judgment, which has a tendency to inhibit growth. This doesn’t mean that I have to think that everything and everyone around me is wonderful. It doesn’t mean that I can’t form informed negative opinions about some of the things in my new world. But it does mean that to view the world openly, to keep myself open to new experiences, feelings, and relationships, I have to stop judging - especially judging against my Western worldview, because this is not the West. I had forgotten that. I hope this is a lesson that I can learn, and that I can sustain throughout the rest of my life.

Six months down, six months (hopefully) to go. I wonder what adventures await me…

P.S. Brian wants me to add that I saw a lot of animals too!

Birthday Week

Sometime over the last three years I started to feel old. I don’t know when it happened or how, but there it is. Worse than old, Brian and I have started to become serious people. My first month in Katima I went a whole month without laughing (I only became aware of this during my first serious laugh session in Katima, which happened to be at one in the morning while watching the Top Gear episode where they go to Vietnam – priceless). In fairness to us, it has been a serious few years. The last three years have been full of marriage contracts, mortgage contracts and building contracts, losing jobs and losing loved ones and most recently meeting the faces of the HIV/AIDS epidemic.

Last week we decided that enough was enough. We came here full of passion to create positive change. Turns out if you are not careful, passion can stop being fun. So, to celebrate my birthday week we decided to (try) to be young again by going to our nearest approximation to a city, Livingston in Zambia. Friday night we failed. Turns out being young is hard! After a long, hot day hiking (hitching) around the country we arrived at our accommodation late. We were in bed by ten.

The next day, however, we woke up feeling better, ready to see one of the 7 Natural Wonders of the World. Victoria Falls is the largest waterfall in the world. The waters that run by Katima on the Zambezi River flow into Zambia and Zimbabwe to create their border and then rush over a gorge that is roughly 2 miles wide. We arrived at the falls, having passed a small herd of elephants hanging out by the side of the road, and went to the bridge spanning the gorge downriver of the falls. The midway point of the bridge represented the divide between the two countries, and Brian and I both jumped over the into Zimbabwe, giggling as if Mugabe was going to jump out of the crowd of tourists and grab us for trespassing. Back on the Zambian side, the falls even in low flow were impressive, if not for the volume of water at this time of year, then for the sheer size of the falls themselves. Even at low flow, we got drenched on the walk along the cliff while taking pictures. While we didn’t do the famous bungie jump off the bridge we did swim in the Devils Pool. Both one of the scariest and coolest things I have ever done, I don’t think I will do it again in a hurry but would definitely recommend it. Devils Pool is a pool of water just at the edge of the falls on the Zambian side. During the dry season the water flow is low enough that a natural rock ledge is formed, allowing people to flirt with death while not actually dying. That being said, every year one or two people do die going over the falls. After a little bargaining, for the princely sum of 75,000 kwacha ($16) we hired a guy to take us to the pool. Holding hands for balance, carefully sidestepping over moss covered rocks the 1.5 km trip took about 45 minutes. I don’t think I have ever focused so much on not falling, acutely aware that not too far away the world fell away. We were taken to a lookout point where we waved to the tourists on the other side of the gorge, took in the breathtaking view of the everlasting perfect rainbow created by the mist rising from the falls, and marveled at the force and scale of the falls that we were standing directly on top of. We then shimmied over to Devils Pool. A small waterfall rushed into the pool below before the water made its final drop, creating enough of a current in the pool to thoroughly thrill and terrify. I wasn’t graceful or particularly brave but I made it to the other side of the pool, where Brian and I both lowered ourselves into a natural depression in the rock which allowed us to safely look over the falls. It is something I will never forget. To my right and left water thundered around me and the red and orange top of the everlasting rainbow flickered like fire from the mist rising from below; I truly felt like a fly on the wall of greatness.

That night we were determined to have fun. After one of the best meals we have had in Africa (homemade pumpkin ravioli in a butter and sage sauce yum!) we went across the street to one of the backpacker bars we had heard was a good place to party. Three people sat scattered around the bar. We hung out there for about an hour and were about to concede defeat and go home when we heard the bartender talking about a live band she was going to after work. In the end this bartender, Anastasia, took us and the two guys to what was far from a touristy spot. The queue outside the bar was enormous and we almost got crushed in a mini-riot as we squeezed our way in before the police quelled the guy who started it with a heavy looking baton. Inside an apparently famous, award winning Zambian R&B band was playing on a stage made out of a lorry. It was a great night – the music was good, there was some white person dancing and attempts at black person dancing, we learned a little about Anastasia’s traditional culture, and I almost became the girlfriend of a rather large looking local (apparently if a guy comes up to you and shakes your hand and doesn’t let go and you don’t let go he is propositioning you and you are accepting. I, not knowing that, politely let him keep holding my hand thinking it was a cultural thing until Anastasia started yelling at him in a different language).

The next day we woke up, had breakfast and made the trip back to Katima. Looking out the window at the dry landscape and villages of fenced in compounds and mud huts, I was struck by just how different this place is to the one I grew up in, how lucky I am to get to go home knowing that a place like this exists, and reminded of the Africa I do like a whole lot. I know that Africa is a diverse and complex continent, that the relative wealth and development of Namibia is just as true and African experience as the stereotypical poverty of, say, Mozambique. But if living in the suburbs of an African town is just as ‘authentic’ an experience, it is not as nice a one. Hardship and poverty exist throughout Namibia, but some of this seems to be offset in the villages by land, nature, family and culture while there does not seem to be much to offset reality in a dusty town like Katima.

Last weekend also put this experience in a little bit more perspective. Once in the trenches, so to speak, placed in a situation where there is intense pressure to hurry up and achieve something, anything, positive in the fixed time period of one year, and where Brian and I do not know anyone except each other, I have developed a sort of tunnel vision where my reality, identity, and topics of conversation all converge on this single experience, and more specifically, The Project. Taking a break from all this, being a tourist and doing activities I would normally do in the real world, I was reminded of who I am. That I am a person who has friends all over the world, who has built and lived lives in two different countries, lives that have involved vacations and friends and nights out, and that this version of me – this girl with perpetually dirty feet, six outfits in the closet on continual rotation, and a drive to do something positive – is only one version of me that will eventually fit into my life story and, hopefully, change me for the better.