Showground Compound -- Monze Town

As December 1^st approaches, World AIDS day, we have been focusing many of our sessions and trainings on the HIV/AIDS concerns here in Monze, Zambia. Just yesterday we ran a powerful session on such topics for about 120 children in the Showground compound just outside Monze town. Showground is a rural area where livelihoods are made from cattle and tobacco farming, as evidenced by the hundreds of cow horns scattered throughout the paths and fields! The Showground compound used to hold weekly displays of cattle and locally­‑grown produce for farmers to buy or trade. Now, it is the home to the Tobacco College of Zambia and not much else. The youth of this compound do physically challenging labor and often have to miss school to assist with farming activities. One or two days a week, we provide fun, soccer drills that incorporate useful health or social information. We have been able to educate the children and coaches of this compound on many issues with our focus this week on HIV/AIDS. The reality of yesterday’s session was difficult for us as you will see but rewarding as well. As we have found out many times, children of too young an age are sexually active. Learning that 10 and 11 year olds were sexually experimenting was disheartening. However, giving them an environment to learn and ask questions provided me with hope for the years to come. Through our games we received many good questions. Working through their options, we allow them to reason and choose a path rather than merely following local traditions. Additionally, we received commitments from many of the children that they would seek testing by the time we next arrived. When we left Showground, we felt like a difference was made. And in holding up our side of the bargain, we made it to the clinic ourselves. “I know, do you?” now adorns our wrists on a bright yellow bracelet. Hopefully seeing this bracelet will continue to motivate the local children to stay informed and make choices.

Please wear red (like our local coaches seen here) on December 1^st to show support for World AIDS day. It is a difficult disease we as a world must defeat.

Christiano

PS - Happy Thanksgiving all!

The Magic (Mujika) Kingdom?

This past week we were lucky enough to be invited to the beautiful, albeit remote, village of Mujika. This village consists of about 10,000 Zambians scattered throughout the bush and rolling hills some 20 miles or so from Monze (my home base). As part of our commitment to the Zambia Project and BSI (our local partner), we committed to extended visits to rural sites to teach coaches and teachers, as well as the local children, as travel to our regular sessions was too distant. Upon arriving at the Malomo School and meeting the family with which we would stay, Sam and I knew we were in good hands. Over the next five days we conducted training sessions for the peer coaches and leaders of the community on how to use sport to teach the children. In the afternoons to the cusp of darkness, we taught the local children numbering close to 200. With great success we shared our techniques and lessons. The teachers were most pleased with the numerous fun games we shared on HIV/AIDS as they find it a difficult topic to discuss and with these games, they felt they could now approach that difficult but prevalent topic. Additionally, the female teachers really enjoyed our “Nguzu Musimbi” session – Girl Power to those not yet fluent in Tonga. At night we slept soundly having worked hard throughout the day.

Well, that last part is not totally accurate. You see, we were in a very, very remote locale. And, as rainy season was commencing, farming and farm animals ruled the down time. My dear friends the roosters, cows, shepherd dogs, chickens, goats and sheep slept at our door step, when they chose to sleep – which I think was never. But, despite the noise, I would have been able to cope. The real trauma came when I had to use the bathroom hole, some 100 yards away from our sleeping area, one night. In the darkest of hours, with the closest electricity some 20 miles away, I donned my headlamp and trekked to the hole. During my walk, our host’s words at dinner rang in my ears – “Beware of the snakes. Don’t jump over them, step on them.” Who was he kidding? Especially after describing the snakes as 5 feet long and as thick as his leg! Granted he was skinny, but still! With that thought, I kept plodding. Safe from harm, I arrived at the hole, and entered the small, enclosed brick structure. Whether it was the light, or my malaria pills or something else, when I entered the structure, I almost died from fear. There hanging on the walls, crawling on the ground, and dangling from the ceiling, were 10-20 of the largest bugs – I assume spiders – that reminded me immediately of tarantulas. My flashlight only made it worse as the shadows cast were gigantic. With my racing heart jumping out of my chest (yes I understand how cowardly I sound), I exited the structure and just completed my activities in the tall grass behind the hut. Whether a snake bit me was no longer a concern! Luckily, none did.

When I finally made it back to my mosquito tent, I tried desperately to fall back asleep, but with the images in my head, I didn’t dare close both my eyes. Luckily, dawn and the calling of the roosters came soon enough and I could head to our host’s house for some nshima and sour milk – the Breakfast of Champions!

On our last night in Mujika, the village prepared for the soccer tournament we would be holding the next day. With all the children coming, some ladies from the village generously offered to make some Chibwaantu, a corn meal based energy drink. I was later informed it translates to Sweet Beer but I can tell you there was no alcohol involved! Since we brought on the idea of capping our stay with a soccer tournament, I decided it would be good form to assist these lovely ladies with the task at hand. For two hours, in the dark, we sifted corn, and then rinsed it, and then brew it, and then mixed it. The strength of the ladies was fierce, or I am getting weaker by the day. Please reserve comments until I return home as I can’t adequately retort. When done, we let it sit in a drum overnight and then shocked the kids with it the next day. I say shocked because when the children found out I helped make it, there was stunned silence and then applause. I was shocked most of all as it tasted relatively good. It was like a watered down creamed corn soup with a smoky aftertaste. I don’t think Gatorade has any worries but the Mujika children thought it was magical!

Twaunka,
Christiano

PS – Happy Birthday Matt Aviza and Jeff Oberg!

One Million Kwacha!

Having completed our work in Tanzania, it was time to say good bye to my friends and then travel onwards to Zambia. As Kigoma found itself on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, I desired to travel south on the famed MV Liemba – a large ship that has been traversing the Lake for many, many years. I headed to the port to check on its departure times as I know it is scheduled to travel only once a week. I learned, after speaking with the harbor master – apparently the only authoritative voice on the subject – that the ship would be leaving in three weeks to Mpulungu, Zambia. T.I.A.! I was saddened by that news because I had looked forward to this part of my journey since June. However, since I learned that the Liemba was being used to transport refugees back to Burundi, and having just spent some time at one such refugee camp, my disappointment disappeared immediately. Seeing the realities of a refugee camp first hand is quite humbling. The coaches I met in the camp had been displaced from their homes due to brutal fighting and killing and had not seen their families in 10 years. The coaches, then sons and young brothers, were attacked at night and fled into the safety of the bush in the darkness. For years, these men have been searching for their families, never giving up hope of reuniting with lost loved ones. Despite the endurance of these atrocities, the coaches have been able to forge a new life at the refugee camp, and use sport as a way to teach the children in the camps and bring some level of normalcy back to the community. Having only been given a few hours at the camp, we shared as much as we could in that time and discussed sending more CaC coaches back to the repatriation camp in Burundi next year. Although it was only a few hours, I will remember the strength and courage of those coaches for the rest of my life.

Back to my travels...since the boat was not an option, and no buses or flights went from Kigoma to Lusaka, I needed to travel all the way to Dar es Salaam to find a connection. When I arrived in Dar, I learned of a special railway called TAZARA (Tanzania-Zambia Railways) that connected Dar to Kapiri Mposhi (a city 3 hours north of Lusaka, Zambia). With a renewed sense of travelling adventure, I bought my train ticket for the next day (Tuesday) at 3:00 (the only time per week that it ran) and headed into the city for dinner and rest. When I woke the next morning, I learned from my hotel that visitors could no longer get visas on the train at the border station so I rushed to the embassy that was scheduled to open in 10 minutes (at 9:00). While waiting I saw a sign that said “Visas – MWF.” I hoped it meant something different than I thought, but soon learned otherwise. The nice woman at the desk informed me that the officer who does visas is here on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Mimicking the eyes of my niece Stella when she wants something from her parents, I plead with the woman explaining my predicament. She said we could try but that I would need 2 passport photos. So my day of running around began. Successfully finding a photo shop to take my picture, I returned from the first of five “errands” which I needed to complete before receiving a visa. At 2:30, I finally received a stamped passport and began the race to the train station, clear across town. A 1 mile run to my hotel was done in 7 minutes, 30 seconds as the traffic was too congested to wait for a taxi. Picking up my luggage from my hotel, I then raced to the station and arrived on the track at 2:55 finding my cabin with ease and dropping my bags on the bench at 2:58! I believe I startled the two French women and Zambian gentleman with whom I would share my cabin when I entered dripping with sweat. They let me sit by the window to cool down as we exchanged pleasantries. For the next six hours, we chatted and learned lots about each other. We ate dinner and even chose our bunks. Things were going smoothly since my arrival at the train, save for one minor detail, we never left the station!

For 6 hours we sat on the tracks waiting for fuel to arrive. One would have thought that when a train leaves only once a week, and yes it is the only train that runs from this station and on this track, you would be a little more prepared for the departure. But, T.I.A.! Sharply at 9:00 we pulled from the station and began a journey that would cross 2 national parks in Tanzania and many remote parts of Zambia. Despite the delay, I was looking forward to the majestic sights I envisioned I would see over the next day. With a night of semi-peaceful rest on my bench sized bed, I took a seat by the window and enjoyed the rolling hills, deep valleys, wildlife and beautiful landscape that passed before me.

My travelling companions were not going as far as I was going, and soon I found myself alone in the cabin. With my new freedom, I inched closer to the window and saw I could see more of the landscape, something I wish I had not noticed. Every few miles I saw an overturned, burned out train car that had rolled off the tracks on some earlier trip. Some rested on their heads in the pits of valleys, and others on top of crushed trees. My relaxing journey became a little more harrowing. Despite the new found angst, I read my Oscar Wao book and snacked on PB&J. I also learned that I was misinformed on the length of the trip – 24 hours was actually 48 hours. Resigned to another day on the train, I put my feet up and enjoyed the scenery – from a distance. With each passing hour, I wondered when we would get to the border between Tanzania and Zambia. The train workers kept saying an hour but after 6 hours passed, I just decided to wait. At 1:00 a.m., I finally put my head on the pillow by the door so I could hear when the immigration officer came by. At 3:00 a.m. someone finally knocked! The officer came in, I showed my passport with my visa and waited for the stamp to be stamped. However, this officer said I was missing a stamp from TZ and that I would need to see her boss. I threw on some shoes, locked my cabin and headed off to a small office on the train – all the while the train is carrying onward into Zambia. In the office, I met with two armed officials and was told that I had illegally entered the country. Apparently, when the train left TZ, the immigration officers did not travel down to my cabin to give me an exit stamp! These Zambian officials were saying I hopped the train and illegally entered the country and I would need to “pay a fine.” I imagined that this could be another dream caused by my Malaria drugs, but I felt too tired for it to be anything but real. The officers gave me an ultimatum – pay the fine or be dropped off at the next station and travel back to Tanzania. Hoping “the fine” would not be too much, I asked how much it would cost me to stay on the train. They said “One Million Kwacha!” I inadvertently laughed in their face and then again explained my story, showing them my ticket from Dar es Salaam. I also explained that I was to be a volunteer in Zambia and had nowhere near a million kwacha. Of course, I had no idea how much a million kwacha was but it sounded astronomical. It was a standoff so I said I wanted to call in the TAZARA employee I had been talking to the whole trip. They politely declined. It was at that moment that I knew they wouldn’t kick me off so I mentally said I would wait it out (as the train was moving anyway). Fifteen minutes later, they realized I was not “paying the fine” and was not voluntarily getting off the train. I think out of boredom, and possibly some belief in my volunteer status, they gave me a 7-day entry stamp and sent me on my way! With my passport in hand, I headed back to my bench-bed and caught some sleep before the sun filled my cabin at 6:00 a.m. For the next 12 hours I enjoyed the sights of the countryside of Zambia and finally made it to Kapirir Mposhi at sunset, completing my 51 hour adventure into Zambia!

Kasulu Teacher's College

Some 75 KM east of Kigoma stands a small, highway town that is home to one of western Tanzania's most elite teaching colleges - Kasulu's Teachers' College. KTC's President believes in the power of using sport as a tool to teach, but does not yet have the funding for a faculty member or a full program, so he asked us to come and run sessions for his students over four days. As the student teachers would bring our teaching style and methods across all of Tanzania where they would hold positions as 1st year teachers, we easily modified our schedule. Each day and night, with one session delayed due to a Biblical deluge of water from the sky, we taught the student teachers the CaC curriculum and then held evening sessions with children from the local villages. Throughout the days of our stay, the President continuously informed us of the joy that the teachers were having. But, more importantly, he said they found the methods so effective! The students even offered to pay for us to stay an extra week out of their own pockets. Because of other commitments, we compromised promising to look into sending fellow CaC coaches for two weeks next year.

In a touching moment, the President and Vice-President concluded our stay with a presentation of a "plaque" and a series of thank you speeches.

With a heart full of pride for our good work, we climbed into the vehicle of a friend who had offered us a free ride back to Kigoma for our flight. As the street are not paved, we were happy to see he had a nice, four wheel drive vehicle that looked like it had enough room for the six of us. I soon learned that six would be eight as he had two other friends. I entered the front cab and sat twisted like a pretzel next to the stick shift. Another large man squeezed in next to me. With no seat belts to be found, I spent the next two hours gripping a handle bar in front of me holding on for dear life as we sped at break neck speed over dirt roads and river beds. My knuckles were white the entire trip and my forearms cramped for the rest of the day. But still, I was glad to be in the front. The other five folks hopped in the back to discover the truck was full of 30 boxes of scented prophylaxes. As we traversed the rough terrain, these boxes would tumble down on them, leaving them not feeling "protected" or "chocolaty fresh." But things would turn for the worse as we passed little villages on the way home as at each one our co=passengers bought groceries through the windows. It started with 25 tomatoes (that soon became soup), then 10 full rods of sugar cane, to peppers and onions, and finally culminating with fish! Now, the temperature outside was close to 95 degrees, but because we were on a dirt road we would need to close our windows every time another car passed to protect our faces from rocks and debris.The remainder of our trip proved quite a lesson - I can hold my breath for a full hour!

Stinky and sweaty, but with love,

Christiano

A Quiet Day Off...

I know it has been a long, long time since I have posted anything. My apologies. I do however thank you all for the well wishes for my Dad as well as the updates from my family. Since it has been a while since a post, I will share a whopper of a story. It may be long MF, but enjoy.

A few Saturdays ago, we had finished our work in Kigoma, Tanzania and had a day off. With our free time we chose to go to Gombe National Park to visit with Jane Goodall's chimpanzees. After a 3 hour boat ride with me sitting essentially on the motor, we arrived, paid our $100 and were given a tour guide (a second year student at a tourism school!). The chimpanzees hadn't been seen for a couple of days but we thought it would still be fun to trek and search the two mountains where they lived. After 20 minutes we came across two baboons who were obviously more than, 'just good friends'!! Then, out of sheer luck we got the radio news from the trackers that the chimps had been spotted. We had to move quickly as the chimps were making their way out of the reserve. Ascending the mountain was tiresome work, but after only 30 minutes of thrashing through some dense forest and brush, we were standing 10 yards away from 3 females chimps who were resting and picking bugs from each other's hair. There was also one baby chimp playing. Very cute indeed. The scene was surreal as we were so close you could see many similarities with human behavior. Amazing I say!

Two of us (Nick and I) then asked the guide's permission to move to another spot just to the left of the chimpanzees to watch from a different angle. We had an unobstructed view from about 7-8 yards! Incredible. After a few moments, the two of us looked over the lady chimps and noticed a big male chimp about a hundred yards in the distance, big enough to look like a small gorilla. He was slowly descending a path towards our fellow hikers on the other side of the ladies. We're not sure why but just then all heck broke loose! The females started screaming and running and branches were breaking all around as this alpha male came charging along the path .....SCREAMING! The place had literally gone ape sh_t. The chimp - we later learned was named Frodo - was bounding down the path right at the spot where the lady chimps were.

I knew something was wrong as this chimp was coming straight at Nick and me. With my adrenalin pumping i started to step away from the female chimps and face off with the chimp. Nick who had received training in Uganda reacted more properly - he looked down, covered his eyes (so missed the whole thing - sort of). At full speed the chimp jumped over our fellow hikers and jumped to the tree right in front of me where Nick stood. Frodo swung around the tree and hurled himself on Nick's back!(PAUSE IN STORY TO VISUALIZE)........At this stage of the story, understand that we I the middle of the Gombe National Park, a 3 hour boat ride from Kigoma, a small Tanzanian town with limited medical facilities and Nick has a 140lb crazy Alpha male chimpanzee screaming on back and me squared off like I would box it.We'll get back to what happened next in a moment but later I found out that this was the chimpanzee (Frodo) that in2002 had eaten a human.Luckily for us, especially Nick, Frodo jumped off screaming and ran away and up another tree. It was an intense 8 seconds. Nick (and all of us really) was lucky that Frodo didn't bite his ears or fingers or really kick or punch him. I was lucky because I didn't want to have to yank a chimp off of Nick's neck!But oh boy, WHAT AN EXPERIENCE!!!

After that intensity, we were lucky that we were able to follow the chimps (between 8-10 of them) for a few hours. Incredible nature. And luckily, Frodo wasn't around too much after the attack... If anyone is interested in learning more about Frodo, google "Frodo: The Alpha Male; By Allan Fallow." You will learn how he ruled "with an iron fist;" how In one four-year period, he alone eliminated an estimated 10 percent of the park's colobus-monkey population within his hunting range; and how Frodo jumped on Jane Goodall and thrashed her head so thoroughly that he nearly broke her neck resulting in her refusal to enter Frodo's territory without a pair of bodyguards along for protection.

Wow.

More posts to follow.

Miss you all,

Christiano

PS -- Happy Birthday Elsa!

PPS -- Welcome Home Dad!

PPPS -- Congratulations Mr. Zwirko! She is a lucky lady.

More Updates Forthcoming

Hello all -- Many of you know, and some of you don't, but my mind has been preoccupied recently with my family -- my Dad is home from the hospital and on the road to recovery -- and so now I can turn to writing up some of the magnificent experiences I have been having lately. As I spent my time today reading about his health status, I will work on it and get it posted this weekend. Let's just say Monze, Zambia is beautiful and the children, especially the young girls battling HIV, make all the hard work very rewarding. More to follow shortly.

Tuwanka (Tongan Good Bye),

Christian

Goodbye Kigoma, Hello Kasulu

My time in Kigoma, Tanzania is wrapping up and soon we will be off to the Teachers' College in Kasulu, a mere 75 KM east from here. It will be a sad day when I do not get to work with these wonderful local volunteers committed to making Kigoma region a "better place." Their willingness to endure the heat and dusty conditions of the Kigoma fields truly indicates their desire to learn how to teach using sport. Selfishly I will miss my afternoon and night sessions with the local children, especially the girls and young women. I will leave knowing that these young women have gained a certain level of respect in the community as well as have learned to approach difficult situations with an eye towards analysing the problem to make a choice rather than just following local tradition. And, I will know that I taught them no grammatical skills by re-reading that last sentence.

Anyway, I wish you all the best and send a hug to my family, especially my Dad. When I learned of the news of Uncle Joey's passing, I recalled his laughter as one of his greatest gifts. I will miss him.

Much love,
Christian