Hey everyone,
So a lot has happened since my last post. Obama was elected, I finished my first fish pond, and completed my first fingerling transport. Also, I taught my first fish farming class, and killed my first rat!
I am working with a cooperative about 18 KM from my house. I have ridden there the past two thursdays, and worked with them to dig a 'modern' fish pond. Basically, the traditional ones are just 2m deep holes in the ground, and they involve very little management, but also don't encourage proper growth or nutrition for the fish. So, the first step in improving fish farming here is to dig 'modern' ponds (ones which have slopes of about 30 degrees all the way to the bottom). These slopes provide places for fish to lay eggs, and allow the water to vary in temperature so that the fish can escape extreme heat or cold.
The first thursday was a bit discouraging. As simple as the concept of slope seems, it was very difficult to convey this to the fish farming group (I tried in Bemba, and through a translator). Plus, modern ponds are very difficult to build (labor-intensive). So, while this group of 10 men and 6 women, all working hoes and shovels, would have finished a traditional pond in just one day, after the first day they weren't even halfway done.
The following thursday proved very rewarding. After a bit more arguing (they still didn't understand slope) I grabbed a shovel and dug a small section of the pond correctly. Then I explained that the whole pond should look like this section. The coop was impressed that I was willing to dig - apparently most volunteers like to just watch - and finally they understood. The project was almost finished when a thunderstorm rolled in. The women ran to the trees for shelter, and the men were starting to follow. The storm wasn't directly over us, so while it was raining there were no worries about lightning. So I kept digging, since I knew once the project was stalled, it may be months before its completion. The group saw this, and instead of taking shelter, came back out and helped me finish the job. The group is very hardworking, and I just hope that they can have success with this pond so it can be used as an example of Fish Farming for the surrounding community. The pond was completed after just 2 days of work, and it is 20M by 15M in size (I'll post pictures as soon as I can).
My first fingerling (baby fish) transport went very well. The cost of transport was exorbitant, and the two farmers I was supplying obviously couldn't afford it. So I managed to coordinate my boss' site visit with the fingerling transport. Thus, we managed to deliver 5,200 fingerlings successfully and at no cost to the farmers (thanks for that one, tax payers). The transport is really stressful on the fish, and we were lucky to have an oxygen tank to feed the fish with O2 while they were transported in 60-gallon drums to the ponds. The fish are now happy and growing in the farmers' ponds, getting ready to be eaten in about 6 months.
The first class was interesting. Students here are not encouraged to participate - the learning is more about memorization and lecture. Of course, these were always the classes we dreaded in school in America, and I'm not looking to become one of those teachers. So instead, I tried to encourage the students to participate by bribing them (kind of). I brought in a can of Tuna, which I explained was fish. I explained to the students that the more they learned in the class, the more fish they would get to eat. Then I gave tuna on a cracker to any student who volunteered an answer for the entire class (credit to Mom for that idea). This was still more difficult than it might seem; most students didn't want to answer, even very simple questions about the benefits of fish farming. Once the can of tuna was finished, I explained that while one fish (the can of tuna) couldn't feed many people, and didn't last long, fish farmers could provide their family with enough fish to eat for a lifetime. I know, a bit cliche - the whole give a man a fish... proverb, but I hope the class understood the analogy. While I felt a bit disappointed about the lack of participation, the class appluaded at the conclusion, and the teacher assisting with translation told me that the class had enjoyed the lesson. The students are going for testing now, so I won't get to teach again until January. Maybe then I'll get to gauge how successful this first attempt was.
The first rat killing was quite a laughable experience. I came home from dinner with the family to find a rat scurry across my floor into the corner behind a cement bag. Since I knew it was trapped, I took time to change my headlamp batteries for better lighting, and sharpen a spear out of a stick, with a plan to stab it. I'll be honest, the rats are still a bit unnerving, and I got up some courage and stabbed it with the spear. Of course, I missed with what must have seemed like a slow-motion strike to the quick little rodent. So, I freaked out as he ran across my toes to the book shelf across the room. It took about 15 minutes of poking and proding the books with my spear to scare him out of the bookshelf, across the room again. I was, of course, unsuccessful with my stabs once again. At this point, the rat had a chance to run out the open door, but thought better of it and ran back behind the cement bag. I couldn't believe how stubborn this rat was; but little did he know, I'm pretty damn stubborn myself, haha.
Accepting that I was too slow with the spear, I grabbed a broom in my other hand. I was now double-fisting deadly weapons, it was like a scene from the Gladiator, except that I'm just not that smooth or coordinated. After several more failed attempts yielding both the spear and broom, I managed to break the broom handle in half with a missed swing, and the rat escaped to the bookcase once again. This time, as I finally managed to scare him out, I went with a double-windmill approach. I missed again (of course) on my windmill with the half-broom in my right hand, and I landed the spear about 2 inches in front of him with my left, stopping him in his tracks. As I followed through on the windmill with the halfbroom, I was able to hit him squarely with the broom head. That was it for the little guy, and I raised my weapons in triumph.
What followed was 30 minutes of cleaning up strewn books and magazines, and glueing back together the family's broom handle, which had been shattered in battle. If this hasn't proved at all funny, I should clarify... When they say 'rat' in Zambia, what it really means is a field mouse, haha. Anyways, hopefully I will become a more efficient rat assassin in the future, but I sure slept soundly that night... no disturbances from furry little rodents.
Life in Zambia is going pretty smoothly, and I'm making adjustments as necessary. Rainy season is about to begin, when it rains everyday until about March... so that should be fun. Hope you are all doing well in America.
- J
