I went into the field with a guy, Kalongonda, from the agriculture department yesterday and will be doing the same today. I borrowed a motorbike from the district commissioner's office for two days to go and see the effects this program is having on farmers and agriculture. I met with the guy last week and he started talking about stuff like getting small stock (rabbits, mice, etc.) to create manure and I knew I was in for something unusual.
The bike alone is hilarious. I can't drive stick, let alone a motorcycle, so the combination was a little too daunting. It is a little like being a drummer--you need both hands and feet involved--and I felt more like the guy from Def Leppard. So I asked the guy I was with to drive. The whole thing is Motorcycle Diaries meets Driving Miss Daisy meets Out of Africa.
We went to a bunch of different villages, talked to a bunch of people. We moved across a lot of the district and ended up in our intervention area by early afternoon. We actually went to a village where I'd been when I was with the study team; the guide was the same woman, and she and I laughed at having met now twice. The process is: meet with the chief (twice today the "chief" was female), then find this committee chairperson, then have them take you to houses.
People tend to offer food--we got a bunch of sugar cane (which was strapped the back and made while riding much easier because I had something to hold onto) and then peanuts--but at this place the village head had actually cooked for us by the time we returned. We went into her house, me, Kalongonda, and the chairwoman/guide, and the food was on a mat on the floor of the main room (probably 10X10'). Kalongonda, gestured for me to sit and I sat. We were washing out hands (poured water from a bowl), when Kalongonda says, "Mbuzi." I don’t quite register and sort of think he’s talking about the food. Then I look over and a goat had just stuck its head into our room from the other room. The guide kind of pulls at me to get up, and I was a bit too slow for the freaked out goat, who totally runs his head-on into me (presumably moving me out of the way), and then tries again to get out, this time successfully. I was a little freaked out, mostly just because I was not expecting live animals in the house, but we all quickly laughed about it. We then ate our nsima and chicken (not goat) and went on with the day. I made the mistake of starting to eat with my left hand (there’s a reason why you shake people's right hands and don’t touch their left…), and Kalongonda said, "oh are you left handed?" I wanted to explain that I use toilet paper and soap, but I just laughed and said no, it was just the closer hand, and I forgot. They didn't seem to care much--we were eating from communal food--but it was a good reminder for next time.
We did also completely disrupt a school's day by showing up to talk to this girl who returned to school after having to drop out to take care of her parents who both died of HIV/AIDS. She's now probably 16 and in Standard 6 (5th grade), while her 14 year old brother stayed in school and is now in Form 2 (9th grade). In any event, having an azungu is a big deal, and I tried to say I'd stay behind knowing that my presence would create a ruckus, but they insisted. And ruckus happened--all the kids came to the windows of the classrooms and were shouting and waving. I can't imagine that it takes much to distract a student in a class of 60-90 kids, but it was quite odd how things sort of shut down while we were there. The whole thing was awkward, including this poor girl who was pulled out of class to talk to us about being an orphan. I didn't want any part of it, but sort of had no choice. No one else seemed to find it troubling, so I went along for it. And now I know not to go during school hours when I need to talk to teachers and headmasters, which I’ll be doing next week.
Otherwise, the day was pretty uneventful. Let’s hope for a quieter day today.
The bike alone is hilarious. I can't drive stick, let alone a motorcycle, so the combination was a little too daunting. It is a little like being a drummer--you need both hands and feet involved--and I felt more like the guy from Def Leppard. So I asked the guy I was with to drive. The whole thing is Motorcycle Diaries meets Driving Miss Daisy meets Out of Africa.
We went to a bunch of different villages, talked to a bunch of people. We moved across a lot of the district and ended up in our intervention area by early afternoon. We actually went to a village where I'd been when I was with the study team; the guide was the same woman, and she and I laughed at having met now twice. The process is: meet with the chief (twice today the "chief" was female), then find this committee chairperson, then have them take you to houses.
People tend to offer food--we got a bunch of sugar cane (which was strapped the back and made while riding much easier because I had something to hold onto) and then peanuts--but at this place the village head had actually cooked for us by the time we returned. We went into her house, me, Kalongonda, and the chairwoman/guide, and the food was on a mat on the floor of the main room (probably 10X10'). Kalongonda, gestured for me to sit and I sat. We were washing out hands (poured water from a bowl), when Kalongonda says, "Mbuzi." I don’t quite register and sort of think he’s talking about the food. Then I look over and a goat had just stuck its head into our room from the other room. The guide kind of pulls at me to get up, and I was a bit too slow for the freaked out goat, who totally runs his head-on into me (presumably moving me out of the way), and then tries again to get out, this time successfully. I was a little freaked out, mostly just because I was not expecting live animals in the house, but we all quickly laughed about it. We then ate our nsima and chicken (not goat) and went on with the day. I made the mistake of starting to eat with my left hand (there’s a reason why you shake people's right hands and don’t touch their left…), and Kalongonda said, "oh are you left handed?" I wanted to explain that I use toilet paper and soap, but I just laughed and said no, it was just the closer hand, and I forgot. They didn't seem to care much--we were eating from communal food--but it was a good reminder for next time.
We did also completely disrupt a school's day by showing up to talk to this girl who returned to school after having to drop out to take care of her parents who both died of HIV/AIDS. She's now probably 16 and in Standard 6 (5th grade), while her 14 year old brother stayed in school and is now in Form 2 (9th grade). In any event, having an azungu is a big deal, and I tried to say I'd stay behind knowing that my presence would create a ruckus, but they insisted. And ruckus happened--all the kids came to the windows of the classrooms and were shouting and waving. I can't imagine that it takes much to distract a student in a class of 60-90 kids, but it was quite odd how things sort of shut down while we were there. The whole thing was awkward, including this poor girl who was pulled out of class to talk to us about being an orphan. I didn't want any part of it, but sort of had no choice. No one else seemed to find it troubling, so I went along for it. And now I know not to go during school hours when I need to talk to teachers and headmasters, which I’ll be doing next week.
Otherwise, the day was pretty uneventful. Let’s hope for a quieter day today.
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