What Is Happening While Sandy Visits Us?

Outside, a storm is raging, wind is whipping things around as though they don't weigh anything at all, and the trees, bending under the pounding, are doing their best to stay upright.  I love the sound of the wind and the rain, but know that we are not anywhere close to the center of this storm yet.  As we wait, one of my children is napping and the other is playing a game with my husband.  I am doing as much as I can while we still have electricity.  As I work through contracts, inventory sheets, reports to donors, and other items which have been sitting by my computer for way too long, I realize that this a wonderful time to focus on the blessings we have been given as a family and as an organization. 

 

Not only do I have warm home in which to play and wait out a storm, we also have electricity, water and food to hold us through a long spell, if needed.  We have a gas stove, so I can cook anytime we are hungry.  We have family with whom to hang out.  We have blankets on beds and we have a basement to sleep in should we feel a tree will crash through the roof.  We are blessed.  So very, very blessed. 

 

While the kids with whom I work are lacking many (MANY!) of the things I tend to take for granted, I do have good news to report on their behalf.  Below is a list of what has been keeping us busy these past days so that they, too, can be comfortable and so that they will always know that someone does care:

• A container of medical supplies, birthing beds, solar panels, water filters and all sorts of magical items is on the Congo River on its way to Tandala Hospital and to 16 clinics in the Ubangi of the Democratic Republic of Congo
• We packed a 40' contaner full of medical and office .  It is on its way to Mombasa, Kenya to supply an amazing clinic set in the slums of Mombasa.
• A container of medical supplies (and the most amazing baby bassinette) is about to launch its way to Mpumudde, Uganda thanks to generous friends at Rotary METS in Savannah, GA
• A greenhouse has been erected in Kenya, to grow veggies for HIV+ children who need good food in order to feel better
• 35 goat kids were born during the past two months in Zimbabwe, all part of our Livelihoods Program. They've been vaccinated and are doing well.
• Trainings in conservation farming continue throughout Zimbabwe to teach children how to grow personal gardens using the manure from animals donated to them. 
• We received the great news that our container to Kilembe Mines, Uganda arrived and that everything in it has been a blessing to the patients and doctors at that hospital
• We received a grant to provide porridge to children who are desperately lacking any food. 
• A volunteer created some ads we need for an online campaign and Share Cause Marketing is going to make it flashy for us
• I received this note regarding a beneficiary today: "A guardian, Grace Moyo (74 years old), says that this project has shown her and the orphans she looks after that the love of the people who donated the money for these birds is changing the life of her family."

I say, let the wind blow and howl.  It is a beautiful thing to learn to care less about the material things we own than for the people around us.  Whether your people to care for are in your backyard, down the street, across the city, or on the other side of the world, do it.  Care for them.  Love them.  Hold on to them, not the the things that will be here one day and gone the next. 

Rain and Sunshine

October 5, 2012 - from the desk of the ED -



Yeah, it's dry!

I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate, although I’d rather be sleeping.  It is wet, rainy and grey outside and that, to me, is the best napping weather.  But, I struggle to stay focused and on task with a cup of mint tea by my side.   I find my mind wandering to our friends in countries where the lack of rain is a huge problem, killing livestock and gardens.  I pray for them, that they will see rain soon and that the rain will help blanket their land with green and with vegetables and fruit. 

I hear the ping of another email hitting my in-box.  I quit looking out the window and read with excitement an email regarding the vaccination of twenty five kids born to the goats we gave out in Zimbabwe this summer.  It is always exciting to hear of female kids being born because one knows that the program will survive, that the flocks will continue to grow.  Keeping them healthy is of utmost importance and the team on the ground is working towards that with the beneficiary families.

On days like these, I take all the good news I can.  My email account is acting up and I am not able to send out emails to specific people (I receive alright...just can't send), which is just wretched.  I have no idea who is receiving my emails and who isn’t.  How am I supposed to work this way?  So, I spend 3 hours between our domain provider and google apps, trying to figure out things that really mean nothing to me.  I find most languages fascinating, but not the language of computers.  I don’t know what they are asking me and I don’t know how to answer.  This is when a good IT person with lots of time on their hands would be so very useful.  Since one of those doesn’t exist in my current world, I will have to do the work.  I’d really rather poke my eye out, but I’ll stay on hold some more, waiting for someone on the other side to give me some answers.

Q giving an ODW vet kit to a village coordinator

Another ping!  This one is from Ron, the teacher/advisor for Operation Days Work.  This is a fantastic student-run program which gets students from various schools directly involved in local projects as well as international ones.  We received a $10,000 grant during the summer, which allowed us to purchase and distribute chickens and goats and veterinary kits for orphan families in Zimbabwe.  This new email is to let me know that the students just voted that AFCA will receive the additional $5000 they raised this year!  Oh, what good news these are!  What will we do with these funds, you ask? 

We will purchase and distribute a soya/maize blend porridge for 70 families as well as seeds and gardening training for the same families. Transportation and delivery of the food and seeds is included in this grant.  How incredibly exciting this is, especially in light of the lack of rain which has affected many families.  The porridge will provide a stop-gap as gardens grow.  The gardens are planted using something called conservation farming, which traps any moisture, even if only dew, under a thick blanket of mulch.  This allows for vegetables to grow even through times of little rain. 

I sip my tea.



My son with beneficiaries in Zimbabwe

I think of the children who’ll receive the porridge and the gardening training and seeds.  I find myself smiling.  I laugh out loud here in my home office, thrilled for them.

Suddenly, even though the rain continues to drum, things look mighty bright indeed.

Trees and a Party

August 4, 2012 – Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

I peek through the door which divides customs at the airport from the waiting area and I spy my friend Lisa who is visiting us for a few days.  My heart is happy as I know that Lisa will get to see the work AFCA does first-hand and that she will enjoy her time here. Like Jodi, she is easy going, ready to do anything and to eat anything.  It will be a nice stay, I am sure.

We have so much to do in the next few days! 

August 5, 2012 – Matopos, Zimbabwe

After church, we pack up a picnic lunch and head out to Matopos National Park in search of some animals and beauty.  Most of the Stambolies are with us, as well as Lennon and we are out for some adventure!  The drive is gorgeous and the sky is bluer than blue, expanding from one horizon to the next.  Breaking up the horizon are acacia trees -those loved by giraffes - looking valiant in the dry earth. They struggle for water, but somehow, still have greenish leaves in a landscape dominated by sand and brown earth.   I have found the trees in Zimbabwe to be beautiful, full of character and strength. With gnarled limbs and trunks, these old beauties house birds, big cats and insects, providing life to many.

During tea time, Juju and I walk off to take a potty break.  Hiding behind a rock, we believe we’ve found our perfect spot when I hear Juju say “we have a problem, mom” and I look up to see that we are situated between the rock (behind us) and a troop of baboons in front of us, on some more rocks.  We are literally between a rock and a hard place.  I convince J to remain quiet and to get on with business when suddenly, a fight breaks out between the baboons and we hear screaming behind us as Eric and the rest of our friends think we’ve been attacked by baboons.  I hear feet rushing towards us and all I can think of is “my pants are down!!”.  As we try to get ourselves organized as quietly as we can so as not to stress out the baboons even more, our friends worry that we aren’t popping out, telling them that we are ok.  But, we are just fine, my Juju and I.  We laugh together once again.

August 6, 2012 – Sizeze and Mayezane, Zimbabwe

We pile into the truck to do home visits and to make sure that the animals we’ve given out and beneficiaries are doing well.  Q drives us and there is an air of excitement as we head out to Mayezane and later, Sizeze. 

I am always amazed at how Q knows where to turn and which small path to take.  To me, each path looks the same and if dropped here, I’d be lost in 3 minutes.  I drive as Q tells me where to go, passing by trees, huts, fences, goat pens, and dust.  Unending dust. A grandmother comes out to greet us, wobbling on her aching feet, holding herself up with a cane.  She creeps over to her goat pen, smiling and laughing as she tells us that one of her goats has had a female baby.  These are welcome news, indeed!

As we visit different families, we hear the same story – babies are being born and the animals are doing well.  We are told how excited families are that their flocks are already growing and that they are benefitting from the milk and that their gardens are growing thanks to manure from the goats.  As we make our way back home, Q tells us that these visits are what encourages him. It makes him know with all certainty that this program is working, that it is changing lives and that it is of value.

August 7, 2012 – Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

Fiesta time!  Throughout the past two weeks Eric, Morgan and I have been making tortillas in preparation for this evening.  We’ve invited approximately 50 friends over for a Mexican goodbye party.  The day passes with us chopping tomatoes and onions, making guacamole, spicing ground beef, grating cheese, making Mexican rice, hanging a homemade piñata the kids made (Chicken Joe), and decorating the yard.  We purchase wood for a fire and get ready to light it on a wheelbarrow so we can move it anywhere we want once we set up seats outside. 

Soon, 5:30pm is here and friends start arriving.  Juju and Ria stand at the gate welcoming everyone with a loud “bienvenidos!”.  In no time, the main house is streaming with people and everyone has a fabulous time with Gypsy Kings playing in the background and chocolate cake topping off the meal. 

How neat it is to have so many of our Zimbabwean friends joining us on this night!  We don’t say goodbye, but rather, “until we meet again”.  I look around the room and know I will miss these people terribly.  They’ve welcomed us into their homes and into their lives and we are grateful.

August 8, 2012 – Coronation, Zimbabwe

The dancing and singing start before we arrive at the meeting place where grandmas are waiting for us.  We make our way through a huge group of people who are waiting during a feeding program and I am grateful that we are not doing feedings in that way.  I firmly believe in development (unless the help is in response to an emergency) and am grateful that we are working on getting families to a place where they can help themselves. 

We arrive at our meeting place and join in the singing and dancing, clapping to the rhythm. Feeling incredibly welcomed, we sit with the grandma’s to discuss how their animals are faring and to plan for the garden pilot project. They each receive three packets of seeds and Aiden passes them out as each name is called.  I am so proud of these children of mine – how they have adapted, how they are growing up showing mercy and kindness, how they are not afraid simply because someone is different from them, how they eat foods which aren’t in their normal food repertoire, and how they willing to try new things.  The children have a blast visiting some of the grandmothers and children, holding newborn kids and petting older, cantankerous ones.

The day is long and we don’t get home until after 8pm.  Aiden and Juju are asleep by the time we return. I wish I were too, because I know tonight will be a long night. 

As we enter the cottage, we are faced with packed suitcases, suitcases needing the last minute items in them and a myriad other small things to be done. Up until close to midnight, we get it all done, saying over and over again how we really aren’t ready to go home yet.  We miss our families but we love the slower pace of life in Africa and the less focus on time.  I am not looking forward to hectic days but would rather be in place where I can get my work done without a ton of stress attached to it because of other outside stressors. 

 Zimbabwe has been a refuge this summer and I am grateful.

I want to do more for this country.  Will you help me by voting for a photo we have in a contest?  We have four days to bring the photo back to first place and to win.  All we need is for you to vote using your email address and to share on Facebook and email to your friends, asking them to do the same.  We have approximately $6000 riding on this contest, thanks to generous donors.  The link to vote is: http://www.globalgiving.org/poll/vote/?pollOptionId=21

Mopani Worms and the Weavers

August 1, 2012 - Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

Last week we were given a bag of Mopani worms because we were curious about them.  I'd heard that they are quite delicious and that they are easy to prepare and full of protein and everything that is good.  While I wasn't about to go running to pick them off the Mopani tree, I wasn't put off by the bag of worms we received.

The worms came to us dried up and shriveled in a plastic bag.

recipe

I ask Q what in the world to do with them since he is quite the fan of the "little fellows", as he calls them.  He asked his wife for the recipe and before I know it, my cell phone dings and the recipe is ready for me to use.  Today seems like worm-cooking weather (if there is such a thing), so I came home early from the office with a goal in mind.



Boiling the little fellows

First, we cook the "little fellows" for 5-8 minutes so that they get reconstituted.  Those suckers got plump and soft and it was really easy to see the neat colors on their back, which I had missed when they were shriveled up.  The water turns all sorts of brown, making me think about all the things worms tend to crawl through.  OK.  Not going to dwell on that!  Moving right along.  At the 8 minute mark, I take the worms off the stove stop and pour them into a strainer.  I heat up some oil and in they go. 

I fry them for what seems like an eternity, trying to get them crispy.  I don't want to burn them, so I keep flipping them over and over, making sure they get cooked on all sides.  Once I hear the sound of something crispy frying, it is time to put some salt on them and to pop them in our mouths.  Morgan and I give them a try and they aren't bad at all!  Aiden runs into the house (he's been outside all afternoon), asks what we are eating and decides he'd like to try them.  The kid loooves them!  He pops them in his mouth, chews, swallows, and asks for more. 

tasting the worms

A second recipe received from Q suggested cooking tomatoes with the fried worms, so I added tomato to half the fried worms. 

We prefer the original recipe, without the tomatoes.

I'm guessing the mopani worms were a hit for us.  Not something I'd order at a restaurant over filet mignon, but not something I'd turn my head to.  If I ever didn't want one, I know Aiden would eat his portion and mine, with no problem whatsoever.

worms with tomatoes

I hear Eric chomping on worms as I type.

Help Needed

Dear friends,

Voting starts on August 1!

One of the photos taken by the American Foundation for Children with AIDS (AFCA) has been selected as a finalist in a contest hosted by Global Giving!

Here is the link where you will vote: http://www.globalgiving.org/poll/vote/?pollOptionId=21.  I took this photo while in Zimbabwe during a goat distribution to grandmothers who are raising AIDS orphans. 

The photo which receives the most votes by noon on August 15^th will win $1000 for the organization, plus, $3000 from matching grants, AND it will be highlighted on the Global Giving home page, which opens us up to many more donations.  Voting starts at noon on August 1, so we please be ready to vote and to ask others to vote as well. 

Only one vote will be accepted per email address, so voting more than once from the same email address does not count. 

We ask you to please vote and to ask your friends, family and colleagues to vote for our photo, too.  Emails, facebook, twitter, list serves - all these are ways you can get the word out.

Think creatively, too.  You can take your laptop to a café and you can ask people to vote for us right then and there.  Or, take your smartphone to work and ask all of your colleagues to vote.

On behalf of the kids,

tanya

Vet Kits and Redistribution News

July 25, 2012 - Mayeze, Mapane, and somewhere or the other, Zimbabwe

Coordinator with Q

Today we distribute veterinary kits to communities where para-vets have been trained and where orphaned families have also learned about husbandry and basic veterinary skills.  Q reviews what is in each kit and it is plain to see the pride in the faces of the coordinators who receive the homemade, wooden kits.

AFCA provides these kits to the communities with refills for the first year of a program.  As families earn money from the sales of milk, manure and veggies from gardens, the community must cover the costs for the refilling of kits after the first year.

Just last week, we had 15 goats get sick with pneumonia.  As families noticed that their goats were not doing well, they ran to tell the para-vet, who checked them out.  Soon, medicine was dispensed to the owners of the goats and in no time, the animals were receiving antibiotics and now, they are doing well.  I was happy to be here to witness how the community worked together to put to use the available medicines and how quickly they were in touch with Q to keep him informed of the going ons and how they cared for their animals.  Every one of the families has told me how well they have been trained and how nice it is to be able to care for their animals as they are able to.





July 26, 2012 - Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

Juju going to school - in uniform

July 27, 2012 - Ntepe, Zimbabwe

Q and I hit the road again, this time heading south, towards South Africa.  We are going to the first area where AFCA/ZOE distributed goats.  It is time to visit the families with a spot check.  They don't expect us, so we feel we'll get a good read at how things are going.

It is a gorgeous day, with blue skies that make me want to reach out to see if it is real.  While needed, rain is not even a possibility today and the day feels perfect.  We arrive at the coordinator's house and Q hands me the truck keys, as four of us won't fit in the cab.  He and a beneficiary sit in the back while the coordinator and I sit in the cab, with him giving me directions and me driving over bumps, rocks, bits of wood, holes, and sand.  We arrive at the first house and meet with a grandma who just this morning lost her daughter and was put in charge of her grandson. 

This boy and his mother had received goats three years ago because she was very ill and we needed to help the boy become able to care for himself at her demise.  He is still young and grandma will take care of him now.  Their goats have gone from 3 pregnant ones to 23!!!  Their flock is amazing and they are all healthy goats.  Since three years have passed, it is time to redistribute and to bless another orphan family with three goats.  The redistribution celebration will happen in November and I couldn't be happier.  There will be 15 goats redistributed in total this year!  Seems like a small number, but this is a sure sign that what we've begun here is working. 

Since there has been a death in the community, most of the families are making their way to the church and we aren't able to meet too many families.  We met with one woman who has raised 3 children and has one more at home.  They've had goats for two years and their flock now totals 8, due to the death of two kids (drought).  Another family lost two goats to cobra snake bites.  One other family, represented by a 13 year old boy, has 9 goats, with another kid ready to be born any day now.  This boy was so sweet and made my day by smiling as he talked to us.  It is so hopeful to see these families and to have them tell us about the program and how they attend trainings and to hear how the flocks are growing.  To everyone who has donated towards this work - well done and thank you!

Elephants, Lions and Tigers, oh my!!

Aiden says "I even painted my arm pits!"

Juju getting her braids taken out

Last week was splendid!  We went on a family vacation and visited Hwange National Park for two nights and Victoria Falls for two nights.  It was so fun to drive off after packing a friend's truck (she is so brave to let two americans drive it, as it is a standard car, driven on the opposite side of the road) and to head out with no computers in tow.

We pack food, blankets, towels, clothes, and huge smiles as we get in the truck and pull out of the Stambolie's house for the first non-working vacation I can remember in a long, long time.  No houses to build, no repairs to be made to day care centers, no repairs to roofs.  No...we were going on a VACATION!

Four hours and lots of snacks after leaving, we arrive at the park and unpack our belongings in a lodge we rented for the two nights.  As we walked around, taking in our surroundings, I hear Eric muttering that one of the doors doesn't lock and that during the day, we'll have to lock everything into a bedroom.  I go to the kitchen to put away the food and notice that the refrigerator door is held to the fridge with a coat hanger.  As I take the coat hanger off, the door falls.  We get so excited about heating up some water for tea only to find out that the electric burner takes 45 minutes to do its job.  We roll our eyes, but take it in stride, as we are on VA-CA-TION and nothing is going to dampen our spirits!



Once settled, we head out to do a quick drive before dinner time and we see a honey badger! This is an animal that is not usually seen in the day time and it is something Juju has learned lots about.  She is so excited and tells us all about the animal.  Next, we spy elephants and kudu and impala and we decide that this is going to be the best trip ever.  We vow to get up at 6:00 so we can be at the park gate the minute they open up.  With bellies full of ramen noodles (took an hour to get that darn supper cooked), clean from warm baths, and full of excitement, we all hit the sack.

No one needs to be woken up the next morning and we are at the gate entry at 6:30 sharp.  No one else is there and we have park to ourselves.  We drive for a couple of hours and see 40 elephants crossing the road right in front of us.  They were very, very close and it was exciting.  Then, giraffe and zebra and warthogs and impala and birds of all kinds make their presence known.  We try to convince Morgan to strap on a piece of meat on each side of her and to run through the savana so that we'll all get to see lions, but she just won't do it.  So, no cats are seen by this crew, but we are all happy anyway.  Another drive during the late evening hours and at sunset allow us to see tons and tons of animals at a watering hole, soaking up the last rays of the sun.  What a sight!



We arrive back to our lodge with a plan: Eric will get the kids in the bath while I get food going.  Morgan will help Eric and in no time, we'll all be fed and happy.  We don't count on the fact that there is no electricity and that we have no wood to make a fire.  I march on down to the office just in time to see the worker locking up the office.  Long story short - customer service is not quite what it should be and we didn't get vouchers to eat at the park restaurant.  Instead, we get to wait for someone to bring wood.  Of course, the lady who brings the wood and is supposed to start a fire, doesn't have matches.  And she needs a ride home.  Really?

As the moon rises over the fire, the stars come out in droves.  I am dizzy looking at them, there are so many.  They sing songs of ages past.  They swirl and dance above us and remind us of how small we really are.  Of how amazing creation is and of how big our Creator is.   Even Aiden is rendered silent as he looks up and simply sighs "ohhhhh", as though his breath is taken from him.  It is magical, standing in what seems to be the center of grandeur and I find myself echoing Aiden.

Sunset on the Zambezi

After another day and night at Hwange, we head up to Victoria Falls, where we are met with more awesomeness.  The roaring of the falls is heard at our lodge and in my dreams, I think it is the air conditioning going on.  We walk around the falls, getting wet in the mist and pointing out the wonders in front of us. 

As a surprise to the kids, we book at cruise on the Zambezi River from where we watch the sun set over Zambia and Zimbabwe, one country on either side of us.  Hippos rise out of the water for air, crocodiles sun on the banks and birds swoop and dance in the distance.  We eat warthog, crocodile, fish, and kudu for dinner and it is all delicious.  Perfect night.  Perfect way to see a bit of this lovely country we have all grown to love. 

Before returning to our cottage in Bulawayo, we must stop of HairMart.  It just sounds too interesting to pass up, so the kids and I head that way.  In no time at all, wigs are being tried on and we have a Fabio on our hands.  When the fun is over, we head back to the truck and start the trek back to Bulawayo.  The kids sleep in the back and I am lazy in the front seat while Eric drives the first part of the trip. 

We talk.  We laugh. 

This has been good.



Faithfulness

July 13, 2012 –Coronation, Zimbabwe

They gave me this mat

Eight hours of driving.

Two hours of workshops.

Two large cabbages.

Eight kilos of chicken.

Two kilos of tomatoes.

Two kilos of onions.

Six kilos of rice.

One mat.

Twenty grandmothers and grandfathers.

Eleven songs.

A million smiles.

If I had to state my day in numbers, the above would be the sum of it.  Ncube, Q and I head out of Bulawayo at 6:00am and stop in Masvingo to purchase food for our workshop before driving the last 20k to Coronation.  This is where we delivered sixty goats a few weeks ago and I am excited to be back.  When we finished giving out goats last time around, an older lady who was selected by the others approached me and asked if I would consider giving them seeds for a community garden.  She assured me that “we will all work on it and it will provide food for the children until we can use the goats for meat and we’ll make sure we work hard and we’ll use conservation farming so that vegetables will grow even during the dry seasons and we’ll save seeds for next year and you won’t be sorry because we are very serious with the donations and will you please help us with seeds?”

All this came out breathlessly, quickly.  As though afraid that she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t get it all out at once.  It was easy to say that I’d think about it because this is the type of project AFCA wants to do since it can be a first step in keeping people out of a system where they expect to receive gifts year after year.  This is the type of thing that can help them become self-sufficient, so I told her I’ll think about it and will get back to them with an answer.  I don’t know if they believed me, but they thanked me and we said goodbye.

church in coronation

Now, I am traveling back to Coronation, a tiny enclave of houses sitting on some of the driest land I’ve seen in this country.  The ladies wait for us at the same church where we first met, thinking that all we will be doing today is a workshop about goats.  They take out their paper and pens and are ready to take notes about goat care when I surprise them by announcing that they have been selected to be part of a pilot project for personal gardens and that AFCA will provide seed for them if they want to participate in the trial.   

They will receive training on how to use conservation farming to keep the soil humid even during times of drought, they will learn how to compost, how to fence, how to grow new veggies, and how to save seeds for next year.  In fact, drought resistant, non GMO seeds are on their way to ZOE’s offices.  Once the dancing and singing dies down, they all register for the trial, excited that their voices were heard and that they will get to share what they learn with other groups.  Together, it is decided that we’ll do personal gardens and that an award (three packets of seeds) will be given to the person with the largest harvest.

We start the pilot project with a lesson on composting.  Ncube translates my words into Shona and the training time goes by quickly.  They take notes, they ask questions.  You can feel the excitement through the tiny room and Q is a bundle of smiles as he takes it in.  Ncube hands everyone a schedule with deadlines for fencing, plot readiness, composting, when seedlings will be planted, etc.  It is so amazing to hear them participate and to know, to just KNOW that this is going to be a great project.  These women and men are so ready to do this!  They are taking a small gift and are going to turn it into something wonderful for their families. 

Someone's kitchen

Together, we all walk to their homes to give ideas of where they could have a garden.  Some have small plots going, with spinach and greens growing.  Some have nothing.  Some have a dream, but need help in making it a reality.  We talk, we plan, we dream with the.  In all the houses, we see their healthy goats roaming around eating anything they can get their teeth on.  Each guardian has built a nice hut for their goats and they boast at how the milk is good for the children and they show them to us proudly.  Q takes this time to start up with his workshop, using live goats as models for his trainings.  An old man, leaning on his cane, looks carefully into the eyes of a goat and tells us that the goat is healthy.  Q looks, too, and patting the man on the back, lets him know that he answered well.

They cooked

Bringing food from kitchen to church

Back at the church, Q continues with his workshop.  Ncube has to translate for him, too, so they hand me the truck keys and ask me to bring the prepared lunch to the church.  HA!  Silly men!  Don’t they know I’ll never find my way to the hut and back?  Thankfully, a woman comes with me and we drive out together into the sand and dry.  We arrive at the small round hut where three women have been cooking the chicken, rice and veggies we brought for the training.  They hug me and seem surprised that I am willing to carry pots, plates and water to the truck.  They clamber into the back of the truck with the food and off we go, under the gnarled tree, past the swaying fence, over some scattered rocks, by the skinny dog who breaks my heart, and to the church.

We eat the delicious food they’ve prepared and as the time approaches for us to leave, they sing one last song:

Every day

Every hour

He is faithful

To us

Every day

Every hour

He is with us

Oh, Lord

To be taught a lesson about God’s faithfulness by a group of people with nothing more than three goats, the clothes on their back, some basic cooking utensils, orphans to look after, and a small hut to call home is a lesson, indeed.  I’ve been worrying about the $100-$150k I need to raise by the end of this year, yet the lesson I hear today is clear  – don’t worry.  Just do your job, do it well, do it to the best of your ability.  The rest is up to God because He is faithful. 

As we leave, the grandmothers remain at the church voting on committee members for the garden project. 

Braided Hair and a Camera

July 11, 2012

Juju has been pretty good at doing summer school work while we are here in Zimbabwe that I told her that I'd treat her to something special if she continued using her best handwriting, not complaining and worked hard at her numbers.  She complied and has been a great student during her homework times (ie when her mother needs a break from the million questions that come out of her mouth). 

When she wakes up today, I tell her that we are going to get her hair braided.  You'd have thought she'd been promised a trip to the moon!  Her smile is huge and all morning long, she keeps checking the time to be sure we won't be late for our appointment.  12:45pm finally rolls around and we make our way to the Hair Dreams, recommended to us by Jean.  Apparently, the stylist, Florence, is familiar with caucasian hair, so she'll take care of us just fine.

After a small trim, Juju is settled into a corner of the salon and a specialist goes to work on her hair.

Meanwhile, in another part of the small, tidy salon I am getting my hair washed in preparation for the requisite foreign trim I get whenever I travel.  Some people collect maps, stamps or coins.  I get haircuts.  Whether I understand the language or the stylist understands me is not as important as the moment of getting the trim.  Sometimes, the results are good.  Mostly, they are not.  So, excited to know the outcome, I let Florence take over.  The only condition I give her is that I DO NOT WANT TO LOOK LIKE A BOY. Believing I am rather clear about this point, I sit back and let the magic happen.

As I relax under some mighty big-sounding snips and cuts, a white towel wrapped around my neck and a blue cape which covers my top and thighs, I subtly look around and find a well-organized working area in a remarkably small space.  In one corner, there stands a full 5-gallon bucket with water being heated by one of those small coil heaters that always makes me think that someone is going to get electrocuted pretty soon. 

To my left are magazines from years past and from which I would not venture to select a cut for fear of looking like something we all shudder about.  Closer to me on the left is a mason jar with combs soaking in water.  Then, the clips, the thinning shears, the razor, and finally, a small jar of talcum powder called Mr. Mountain Man.  I keep a straight face as I keep looking around me. 

To my right is a chair for the next customer and a little further on that side is where one gets their hair washed when you first enter.  Juju is crammed into the only remaining corner and is smiling bravely as braid after braid is made in her hair.  She doesn't complain of pulling or yanking, so I assume the lady is being gentle or that my child is going to be another victim of vanity.  She is looking mighty cute and smiles at me when I catch her eye on the mirror in front of me, as she is behind me, slightly to one side.

Florence cuts and cuts and cuts.  She comments on the many cowlicks I have and seems determined to get rid of them.  I remind her that I do like having a little hair left on the back so I don't look like a boy.  She smiles and tells me that I have terrible cowlicks.  She says the word "terrible" with fierceness and again, I am sure she is going to rid me of them all.  In fact, she has done just that.

Juju and I take a taxi home where Eric greets Juju with a big smile and the camera.  He tells her how cute she looks and how neat her braids are.  He sees me and and the smile sticks a bit.  He tries to work on it but it is impossible for him to muster the words we both won't believe.  So, I laugh and let him off the hook. Maybe I should have chosen a look from the magazines from long ago...

He put the camera away.

Chickens and Tea

July 4, 2012

The car horn gets me moving quickly and I grab my water bottle on my way out the door.  Q and I are going a couple of hours away to conduct a chicken training to a group of grandma's who are caring for orphans.  Along the way, we talk about many things: the role of women in Zimbabwean society, life during the colonial days, what sort of foods are eaten here which I haven't had yet (worms, field mice, etc),  Hwange National Park, Victoria Falls, the price of food and how it is changing the face of poverty, Lassie, scary-looking dogs, etc, etc. 

Josphine

We sit under an avocado tree on hand hewn benches, surrounded by grandmas who are ready to learn about chickens and their care.  While we wait for more grandmas to arrive, I interview the ones there in order to get their stories down.  I meet one grandma whose name is my own grandmother's, the grandma of my heart.  I tell her that my grandma is Josphine, too, but that we pronounce it differently because my grandma is from Colombia.  She tries out my "Josefina" on her tongue and finds it tastes just as good as her "Josphine".  She repeats it to herself a couple of times, as if to remember it for later.

They seem shy but are willing to answer my questions, which helps me understand their lives just a tiny bit.  The daughter who've died, leaving them with grandbabies to raise.  The sons who've pass on.  The husbands who are no more. Somehow, these women have survived tragedy after tragedy, holding on to a thin veil of hope, believing that despite everything, their grandchildren will do better than they did.  I ask them what the gift of five chickens means to them.

School fees.

Food.

Soap.

A future.

A new blanket.

I take them on a journey of possibilites and we work on numbers.  We determine that at the worst case scenario, they will each have 35-40 chickens by the end of the year (after eating some eggs and losing some chicks to predators or illness).  One woman squints her eyes and says in N'debele, "We will be rich".  Her voice is soft, her poise calm, her tone straight forward.  She shows no external excitement.  In fact, she looks a bit wary, a bit careful as she utters those words.  Once translated, I look at her square in the eyes and say "That is the point".  It seems that no translation is necessary because as the words come out of my mouth and I gesture that this is what we want for them, they all break out in smiles and laughter.  It seems that they were afraid to point out what could possibly be true - that in one year, they might be richer than they ever thought they'd be.  That in a year's time, they might have 35 chickens to call their own, some to be sold, some to be eaten and some to be kept as layers.  Once the realization hits that this is where their children's future might lay, they are eager to know what to do, what the contract demands of them and of us, how to build the best house for their chickens, and how to do record keeping.

Once I am done with the contract and record keeping portion of the workshop, my part in the training is done and I head off in search of wood.  A woman joins me and helps me build a small fire on the opposite side of the small, weather beaten church, while two adolescent girls go to a river for water.  The walk is long and in the time they go and come back, the fire is ready, almost out, revived again.  I've managed to make 50+ butter and jam sandwiches while squatting on the hot ground.  They are stacked in tall columns, these sandwiches, as tasty as I could make them with the two ingredients we have.  Q had purchased the bread, butter, jam, tea, milk, and sugar on our way to the training and I was incredulous at the amount of bread.  In his quiet manner, Q tells me that rural Africans eat as much as they can when food is available because they never know when they will eat again.  He assures me the sandwiches will be gone at tea time. 

The workshop ends at the same time as I round the corner of the church building with a pan in one hand and a small pitcher of water in the other.  Old women with beautiful black, wrinkled, hard-working, sometimes arthritic, hands are surprised that a white woman is offering to wash their hands.  They laugh shyly and hold out their hands over the pan as a thin stream of water gets poured on them.  They scrub and I pour a bit more.  Down the line I go until we are done and can go into the church where four more benches, a large pot of tea, and more than fifty sandwiches wait for us.

Q is right.  There is no food left by the time he and I head out the door. 

A pair of those beautiful old hands grabs one of mine as I say good-bye and she kisses it.  I am undone.  I hug her tightly and she says against my neck one, two, three times - "thank you. thank you. thank you". I say "thank you" back because the gift is mine.

On the Road Again

June 29, 2012 - Mahwanke, Zimbabwe

While Juju convinces Aiden that she can carry him like African women carry their babies, I prepare for a day in the field:

Water bottle.
Snack.
Sunglasses.
Paper and pen.
Camera.
Toilet paper

I am on the road again.

This time, I am on my way to Mahwanke with Shungu (monitoring and evaluation guy) and Q to distribute 32 goats to some elderly Go-gos (grandmothers) in the middle of nowhere.  We talk easily as now-familiar scenery flashes by the side windows of the car.  I don't lift up my camera when a troop of baboons cross my path or when impala jump in front of the car startling the three of us.  Now, if a rhino or a giraffe were to make their presence known, I'll be all over that!

As we drive, we talk easily about ideas, about development, about hunger, about food security, about goats, rabbits, and chickes.  Shungu tells me that what AFCA does here is life-changing.  He is passionate as he tells me of the goat babies born in programs we've supported in the past and how the children are getting plumper due to good milk.  He is so excited to monitor the activity of various sites because he sees real change. Of all people, he should know.  He has worked all around the country and can easily tell you where villages are located, where the driest areas are, where the biggest hunger lurks.  He will also tell you with a broad smile about the places where hope lives and where grandmas dance at the birth of a new baby goat. 

Go-go Judith

After what seems like half the day, we arrive dusty and a bit parched.  It is a hovel of round huts, a space where dust and greenish-brown skinny trees meet under an intense blue sky.  There, waiting for us, are the grandmas.  They shake my hand in the funny three-part African handshake and some hug me.  Introductions are made and short speeches are called for.  It is obvious, though, that no one came for speeches.  They came for GOATS and we are going to give them some!

Now accustomed to the routine, I write out ear tags and hand them out to each woman as Q explains the details of what we'll be doing in the beautiful clicking sounds of N'debele.  They clap and smile, eager to get the party going.  Beautiful, colorful head coverings stand out against the blue of the sky and the heads bob up and down as they nod in agreement to Q's words.

Q readies the syringe and I get the tagging gun ready.  With a quick nod, goat by goat are brought out of the pen, are vaccinated, tagged and handed to the Go-gos. 

Go-go Judith is about 90 years old and she breaks out in a dance of joy right there, in front of us, missing teeth and all.  She is about six inches shorter than me (imagine that!) and dances ferociously. Her feet work up a pattern in the sand and dust. She grabs my hand and says "thank you" with such intensity that the sky cannot compete with her smile.  She is radiant. 

She is all any donor would ever need to see to feel that their work is valuable.   Please understand that you are a hero to many in a dusty land far from your own. 

You are a hero to me.

More importantly, you are a hero to Go-go Judith and the children she is raising as her own.

Water, water - not everywhere

June 28, 2012 - Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

Cows in Riverbed

Water is such an immense issue, isn't it?  Where I am right this instant, in Bulawayo, water is scarse. Not as scarse as outside of the city, though, where we drive by countless dry riverbeds, all full of sand and the hoofprints of horses and the footprints of other animals.  I don't know where animals and people go to find water, but am told it can be 20 kilometers for a person to get water.  When they arrive at the water hole, the creek bed, the borehole, the well, they take time to get their water and then, they have 20 kilometers to get back home - this time carrying a 60 - 70lb jug of water on their head.  This is HOURS from a person's day.  HOURS of walking under the hot sun in search of something that we Americans take for granted.

Animals survive more from the liquid they get from leaves and stems they chew on, even though these, too, are shriveled and brown.  It is amazing to me to see how the local goats have adapted to life without much water, looking plump and healthy, even though they might not actually drink water but once a day, if that.  Imagine how much more milk they'd produce if they had actual water to drink?  This topic has been occupying my time these past two days, taking me to meetings with dam builders and borehole diggers.  If we can find a partner to help us in this particular area in the villages where we work, life would be much sweeter for many. I keep plodding forward, researching, calling, writing, visiting, pestering, begging, and pleading.  Someone, somewhere will answer.  I am sure of it. 

Bathoom in middle of no where

I don't know how many times we leave the water running while washing dishes. The water running so it gets hot enough for us to enjoy a shower. The water running while we reach for a toddler who needs his hands cleaned.

After two weeks of very controlled water supplies, I've learned to bathe both Aiden and Julia using the water from one stardard size bucket.  I can wash completely, hair and all, with less than half a bucket, reserving the other half to flush the toilet when the water is off.  Will we remember to be this careful when we return home and water seems to be flowing everywhere, at little expense? 

Another issue with water is the fact that without it, people can't grow gardens properly.  With this in mind, we are starting a small pilot project to see which vegetables grow best in these conditions, with which specific type of gardening (4x4, pallet, hanging, etc) types.  We are enlisting the help of ECHO, an organization in Florida, to record our findings and to access seeds suitable for drought conditions.  A big part of this project will be the use of manure from goats and chickens given to orphan families and tons of mulch to keep moisture in the ground.  Stay in touch to hear how this project progresses...I promise it will be interesting and we'll all learn a lot.