American Chitemene

We’ve had an unusually warm and non-snowy December; Sault Ste. Marie is not overly warm, but is something like 40” short of its normal accumulation of snow. A bit of a caveat; tough to say whether a late starting winter is unusual anymore. It’s been an odd 15 or so years, but my gut tells me (and memory serves me) that our tough, “Up North Winters” are waning.

Waxing or waning, I don’t much notice the season physically. At my size and metabolism, cold doesn’t get to me much. Take today … we were in the low 30s, high 20s working outside, and I was scarce affected outside of feeling really sleepy from all the fresh air. The hands were wet, but not too cold; the activity and flexing kept them relatively warm; plus, I don’t very much feel the things anymore. Set them to work and move them as necessary.

What were we doing outside in almost winter? My father has decided to slightly expand a small clearing at our hunting camp he opened up years back, but which had been encroached on by numerous poplars interspersed with sugar maples and the occasional ironwood. Though most of the small trees he can simply plough under, the larger ones need to have their roots yanked out for fear of denting the plough blade or bending the three-point hitch on his old Massey-Ferguson.  It’s a laborious process; he stays on the tractor as he is no longer as agile on his pins, pulling the rig and bucket near to the trees, lowering the blade of the latter to the base of the tree. I wrap an old chain with a hooked end twice or three times around the base, hooking the chain to itself, and then secure the tag end in a larger hook welded to the top of the bucket. Once I step back, Dad raises the bucket; after some slightly whining from the hydraulics or perhaps some orchestrated advances and retreats, the tree bursts from the ground, a knot of clutching roots packed with sandy soil, rocks, and matted leaves. I swing the tree to the side, shake off whatever clings to the roots, loosen and remove the chain, and cast the tree to the side; then the process begins anew. When enough trees pile up, I bring up a trailer and we haul them to a pile for burning in the spring or fall.

The labour doesn’t bother us much; oh, it’s tiring and getting whipped in the face with a young branch never feels great, but we have a tractor and plenty to eat. What is simply awe-inspiring is the realization that most of the fields around this part of the U.P. and throughout much of Michigan were literally hacked out of the wilderness using little other than axes, saws, shovels, and fire … including gobs of physical labour from both beasts (bovine and equine) and man. No small wonder elder generations never lived very long; my grandfather and great-grandfather who both alternated farming in the summer with timbering in the winter, died at relatively young ages (65 and 50, respectively). To some extent, they were worn-down, broken physically from their efforts.  My father, though enjoying remarkably better health care than his father and grandfather, also shows not a little wear-and-tear from the years of labor.

I am lucky; other than a number of dings, mainly to my hands, I have escaped most of the long-term damage that otherwise results from manual labour. Still, I don’t begrudge the considerable time I have logged doing physical labor, particularly in my current situation. It gives me an increasingly rarified empathy for Zambian farmers, who typically have only their own muscles with which to wrest a living from the soil. Making a garden, digging hectares of soil, hauling water, pounding grain; none of it is fun and I guarantee that if their was an inkling of a chance to eke a living some other way, many of those farmers would chuck their hoes as far as they could and never look back (until, as some are wont to do, they actually make a chunk of money and return to the village to save money … living in towns on a standard pension is tough). The burden of farming is evident particularly with young people; rather than continue laboring away, many head for towns, where penury can at least be temporarily relieved with alcohol, female companionship, the relative comforts of Western civilization, etc.

In a later post, I’ll try to elaborate the labour involved in farming a field. In a word, it’s impressive and a testament to the toughness of Zambians. In the meantime, have a look at chitemene, the catchall phrase for “slash-and-burn” (note the quotes) agriculture in Zambia.

The question of the day, for now: How do we make farming worthwhile, an objective for a young person? Or are we kidding ourselves?  Most American farm children are or already have walked away from the farm; the average age of a farmer in the U. S. A. is 55 years! Guess we have to do what drives many youths off farms anywhere: make farming pay and make it easier. 

They Do Come in Threes!

The week of Thanksgiving was a banner one for this here blogger:

1. Michigan (University of) beat the Ohio State University for the first time since I've had a decent paying job.

2. On the 22nd, I shot my first buck (a seven-pointer) in 19 years.

That's Dad on the left. He's been hunting since 1951 or 52 (he can't remember).

3. On the 20th, I was offered the Conservation Agriculture (CA) position with Concern Worldwide!

Yes, Kelvin ... there is a Santa Claus. I'll be heading back to Mongu, Zambia (my home for the next two years) in January to take on the coordinator role for CA in Western. Excited; it will be a big challenge, but it's exactly what I've been working towards for the better part of seven years.

More later; Internet access here in Upper Michigan is inversely proportional to the number of standing spruce trees, and I have numerous emails to send.

The End ... ?

Readers -

Time, as it is wont, got away from me in the hectic pace of the last few weeks in both Senanga and Zambia; hence the lack of posts this past month.

I left Senanga on the 29th of October under less-than-ideal circumstances with regards to the state of my friends' health ... Mooto came up badly ill whilst I was in Lusaka presenting for the celebration of PC's 50th anniversary, something like a stomach flu similar to what I had experienced, though the symptoms were much harder on him. In a strange way, it was a blessing; if he had been well, he would have traveled way out to Sitanga-Manyanga on Food Reserve Agency (FRA) business with Munalula that day. As it turned out, that vehicle (one of the beastly Teutonic 4x4's that ply the deep sands) suffered a steering malfunction whilst returning from from the visit, less than 8km south of town. The vehicle, moving at a relatively high rate of speed, left the road and overturned; one man riding on the back was killed outright from the weight of the 50kg rice bags that buried him. The driver, though outwardly little-damaged, suffered from severe internal injuries and expired less than two days later. Only Munalula made it through, albeit awfully banged up: his head required a number of stitches, he lost most of the skin off his lower left arm, and his hip was wrenched something awful. Doubtless Mr. Munalula's composition of iron bones and leather skin, combined with his being the essence of toughness, allowed him to survive the wreak. To pile on all this, Timothy Malazhi, one of our most dedicated and friendly employees of the cooperative, lost one of his grandchildren on the 28th. For the first time in the year we've come to know each other, his smiling, cheerful mien collapsed; I last saw him staggering towards the clinic, shell-shocked by bereavement.

It was a sobering end to my tenure in Senanga. Other than giving money, and in the case of Munalula my spare cell phone, there was little time to seriously reflect on the events, as I was composing my last set of memos and reports for both SDACSS and Concern, preparing for a job interview with Concern the following week in Lusaka, packing to go, and of course, bidding a tentative farewell to the people I've come to know and befriend. I say "tentative" because should fortune warrant my placement with Concern, we'd be rejoined by Christmas; should it not, then it becomes more of an unknown. However, I was given small gifts from a variety of people; a handcarved pen-holder from the guys in the office, a cane from the employees, and numerous small gifts of food. I threw a quiet party for the SDACSS staff on Friday evening, ordering pizzas from a gifted local baker. The four of us knocked down six relatively tasty pies and talked the night away with stories and laughs. We hugged all around when they departed and I held back the tears as best I could; I really enjoyed working and sharing with each of them [Lingela, Mphonda, and Aka], and felt privileged to have worked with three highly-motivated young men.

There's little else to say for now, or maybe ever. I was in Lusaka for the closing days of October and he opening week of November doing my Close of Service (COS) activities, holding a series of exit interviews with Concern, and having a job interview with Concern for their Conservation Agriculture (CA) coordinator position (for Zambia). I rang out officially on the 4th of November; the next morning, I departed Lusaka for Monze to visit the family I stayed with while conducting my field research in 2009. Had a pleasant visit for two days, then departed for Choma on the 7th to see some PC friends, then the 8th to Livingstone to stay with another PC Response / Zambia RPCV, Bob Wilder. Despite the visceral heat (it reached 110F by 14:00 hrs. both days), we had a wonderful walking tour across the dry lip of Victoria [Mosi-O-Tunya] Falls and swam in the Devil's Pool on the very edge of the precipice. On the 10th, he and I took the big birds home.


And here I am, watching the sun rise over a chilly, clear sky in Gallatin, Tennessee. Some campers I knew from 10 years ago are getting married and I have been figuratively reclining in the company of good friends. There is less of a culture shock in coming home (?) these days; people who know me mostly know what I do, though the why escapes them (and to be perfectly honest me). I revel in being in the States for however long as a means of recharging my batteries, reflecting on what I've done, and looking forward to whatever the next step will be.

I pray that I get the CA job; it is, in a word, the perfect opportunity for me at this stage, a chance to finally put all the past seven years of on-the-ground experience into a role where I have the potential to positively impact thousands of small-scale Zambian farmers. However, if it falls through, I'll find something to do and will eventually return to Zambia. Though I lack the means to articulate my motivation for working in Zambia at the ground level, I know that somehow, it now occupies a central role in my existence. For better or worse, I am inexorably bound to Zambia.

And with that, dear reader, I bid you a fond adieu for now. I'm sorry this blog hasn't been a tad more relevant or frequent; as such, it became less of a means to show and to educate others [yourselves] relative to its value to me as a means of self-reflection.

Lukandalezi (we leave you with thankfulness),
Kelvin Limota
U.S. Peace Corps - Response, Concern Worldwide / SDACSS, Senanga Zambia, 2010-2011

No more hugs ...

Today was rough; one of our workers informed me that Ngenda died on Friday.

If you don't remember from past posts, Ngenda was the mentally handicapped guy who never changed clothes (he simply added new ones on top of the old), and always greeted me with a lantern-toothed grin and a shout of "MAKUWA!" or "FAZZAA!" (someone told him I was a priest). He would slap your hand as hard as possible and then give me a big hug (he was built on the tall lanky side and sort of envelopes shorter folks), patting my back and saying "Makuwa, Makuwa, Makuwa!" over and over. Immediately thereafter, he'd ask for a "pin" (K1,000) or a "fiba" (K500), and stride off happily as soon as you handed it over. If you delayed, he simply walked around with you until you coughed up (pretty effective method).

I guess someone asked him to carry something heavy Friday afternoon. He lifted it, was crossing the road, faltered and died. Just like that ... my guess is heat stroke. It's been above 40C for the past week. 

They buried him on Sunday while I was in Lusaka.

Here's the only picture I have of him:

I'll miss you big guy. Hope you're in a better place. 

Fighting on two fronts

Yesterday was one of those frequent psychological valleys development work pitches you into once, twice, or five times a week.

It started out okay ... I was packing up my rucksack to go in the field and observe/assist with an agroforestry training being conducted by our local Ministry of Ag. and Forestry Dept. guys out in Lui-Wanyau. By 7:30, I was all set to go for the appointed time of 8:00. Unfortunately, the unscheduled absence of one of our two vehicles and the concurrent lack of communication within our office meant we were short of transport. Our extension agent Aka went on a mad dash around town trying to organize a 4x4 to get out to Wanyau; I went over to our local Water Affairs and got a 3/4" pipe we're using as a standpipe threaded. Nothing had been sorted by the time I got back, so I worked on a production memorandum for our peanut butter production and marketing until 12:00. I called Aka, who informed me that no wheels could be found.

I packed up my laptop and newly-threaded pipe, and went into town to get some chow before going out to our worksite way outside of town. Along the way, I stopped at our old (FRA) office and found Mr. Mooto (my manager) sitting under the big mango tree outside. Mr. Mooto is always dressed like I'd imagine how people dressed in the 1930s ... straw hat, short tie, pants pulled up nearly to his sternum, etc. He was fanning himself with the boater, and expressed his usual complaint about the heat, which is reasonable ... you can bake bread in the FRA office once the sun comes out. He told me Patrick, Munalula, and Timothy had went up north to Situnga on the east bank of the Zambezi to purchase rice, and he was hoping this was going to be our first decent purchase. Since the last week of August, we've been trying to purchase Supa rice to fill our newly printed 1kg bag, but have only received spits and spats of rice: 1 bag here, 5 bags there, etc.

We parted company shortly thereafter. I grabbed my usual town lunch, nshima and village [i.e. unintentional free range] chicken with a small portion of boiled rape, which I liberally dosed with salt and chili sauce. I then pounded a Pepsi and about 1/2 a gallon of water in preparation for the walk out to our new site; walking at 13:00hrs. is significantly more challenging than at 7:00hrs. when the temps are cooler and the sand is a bit tighter to walk on.

After 30 minutes of traversing Katuya compound, about 100 kids practicing their rudimentary English on me, one woman commenting that I shouldn't be walking because I might die of heat (my Lozi is moving forward inch-by-inch), I arrived at the site. After chatting with Lingela and Aka about the transport issues, I started in on putting in our last 70 meters of polypipe to the office so that if our supplies request for plumbing ever goes through, Mr. Mooto can stop answering the Call of Nature by walking out into nature. It took about an hour; the fittings, though simple in principle, are notoriously cantankerous affairs that never seem to fit together right the first six time you assemble them.

In the meantime, a taxi pulled up; Munalula, Patrick, Timothy, and Mr. Mooto all got out. As usual, Munalula was dressed in a long-sleeve shirt under a sweater-vest and moving three times as fast as any five Zambians despite the 40-degree temps. I could tell by the others, though, that the news was not good. Patrick came out as I was fitting the poly-pipe to the galvanized standpipe and told me the story of the purchasing exercise: Arriving in Situnga, they had found no one had brought bags to the appointed area (as promised by the local extension worker), so they found the extension worker and went around looking for rice. One farmer (a cooperative member) had 35 bags, but refused to sell them after they had been weighed out at 49, 48, 46kgs, etc. ... We purchased raw rice by the kilogram (paying K2,000), and since the price was just under K100,000 per bag, he turned them down, wanting the full K100,000 regardless of weight, rather than K98,000. When Patrick tried to negotiate, the guy got really "crazy" and brushed them off. A number of other farmers told our crew they had rice, maybe 1-5 bags each, but that we had to go to their houses, house-by-house, and pick it up; none wanted to bother to use/borrow/rent ox carts to haul it the 500-2,000 meters to the collection point, a local school. After five hours of this, Patrick gave up and came back without a single bag of rice. As he washed up using the newly installed standpipe, he looked at me and said plaintively, "Let's just close this cooperative and move it to somewhere where people aren't crazy."

This is the same story we've heard (with slight variation) four times over the past month and a half ... our cooperative members, who in May are anxious for us to purchase rice, who set the prices per kg, and so forth, end up balking when we actually come, cash-in-hand, to purchase the rice. They want us to bring a vehicle right to their doorstep; they want higher-than-market prices; they want us to wait around in the village for at least a week while they're at a church meeting, funeral, etc. No one seems to remember all the running around we do with trainings, meetings, input distribution, developing a steady market, etc., etc. It smacks of dependency.

Yes, I'm going to finally break down and use that word. Call me what you will, but I've seen in the five years I've physically worked in rural Zambia, and particularly this past year here in Senanga, I've seen that most of the problems with agricultural diversification, agri-business, and agriculture as a whole stem partly from external contexts (i.e., economics, government ag. policies, climate, etc.). Yes, they are bad. Yes, this is Africa (TIA). However, it's not like there's a drought every year (the last serious one was seven years ago). It's not like the rains haven't happened at the same time every year. It's not like people have more or less fertilizer (it's pretty much zero anyway). It's not like they aren't bombarded with messages / trainings about soil improvement (e.g. agroforestry, sustainable ag., etc), higher-yielding varieties, improved farming techniques, etc. I realize that there is an element of farmer conservatism in every society, which is to say you do what your parents did out of aversion to risk. However, what I see in this area goes beyond that; almost to a man, people here have a tendency to curse the darkness and wait for someone else to light the candle. Sure, we'll sell you rice, but only if you come pick it up, winnow it yourself, and pay us a really good price. In the meantime, next time you come to train us in rice production intensification, bring us a couple crates of Coke and some broiler chicken, the meal you served us last time was no good.

But to quote Pogo ... "We have met the enemy, and he is us." It is not surprising that many Zambians are dependent, because it has been likely the biggest per capita recipient of non-military aid in sub-Saharan Africa, if not the world. In the 100km strip between Mongu and Senanga, it's particularly bad; it's the only decent road in Western Province, so NGOs tend to focus on the villages adjacent to the tarmac (driving in this sand is absolute hell on vehicles). When you have multiple agencies competing over the same villagers (or should I say, the select few villagers who represent the top of rural hierarchy), the agencies have to constantly one-up one another in terms of compensating the villagers (for what lost time, I'm not sure ... no one has a job). Bringing white maize meal for a training (despite farmers having / eating maize nearly every day)? No problem. Meat / white chicken? No problem. Sitting fees for attending trainings? We can do that. Bicycles for "volunteers" to monitor other farmers? We're on it. Fertilizers? Seeds? We'll bring them, but promise to pay the loan back this year, okay?

The sad part is that any interaction between an agency (either government or non-governmental) and the village-level has become laden with expectations that divert from the actual point of any intervention. An training about agriculture in any way, shape, or form, has less to do with the point of learning something than the immediate outcomes of the trainings themselves. Why does it continue? Pogo, if you will? 
"We have met the enemy, and he is us."

Donor funds must be justified, esp. in these days where unemployment is driving American youth onto the streets; there's not that much cabbage floating around anymore, and everyone's fighting for a chunk. How do you get those funds? You count as many beans as possible to justify your existence, and if it isn't enough, you go find more beans to count. It is not an atmosphere that lends itself to introspection, quality, etc.; it's more on the scope of fast, hard primary impacts. More nets? More notebooks? More tools? Hence, you read more about trainings, distributions, donations, etc. Trickier topics such as adoption or livelihood improvement are harder to quantify and usually logged under so-called success stories. One of our big challenges with Conservation Agriculture is trying to actually measure the "real" adoption rate ... how many our expanding their fields or adopting spontaneously, rather than out of a desire to receive inputs.

Sorry for the tangent, but you have to get these things off your chest. The next day, we climbed up out of the valley for a bit and did an agroforestry training in Kaeya; I pulled off my whole demonstration without giving away a single planting pot or seed, but rather leaving it up to them.  If they want to go into town, collect F. albida seeds and old beer packs to make nurseries, go through the effort of watering and planting, then we are on are way (some have). If not, try something else.

Assess the local situation hard. Present workable options. Give advice on those options. Be on hand to encourage. Acknowledge failure and alter tactics. Keep trying ... but don't give anything away.

At least the standpipe got installed alright.

The Good Life

I recently received this SMS from another Peace Corps Response volunteer out in Eastern Zambia:

It's my 7th straight day in the bush, and we have 8 hours of bush travel ahead of us, and then two more days. I've eaten nothing but maize and greasy chicken, and I can't remember the last time I slept through the night. This is *not* glamorous; it is physically and mentally taxing to the brink of insanity.

Keep this in mind before asking a volunteer about their 'adventures' overseas.

Zambia Elections ... The Day After

Today marks the effective end of Zambian elections; though Tuesday (20 September) was the official holiday, government offices effectively sit still until the winner is announced. Well, this morning at 00:34 (23:34 GMT), the Chief Justice of Zambia announced the opposition Patriotic Front (PF) candidate, Michael C. Sata, as the winner of the 2011 presidential elections.

Cheers broke out immediately across Senanga sufficient to wake its lone blogger. I switched on the office lights, turned on the state television channel (ZNBC), and called for our night guard to come in and see the news. We watched in silence for the few minutes they continued transmitting from Mulungushi House (Lusaka), repeating the news with a level of spontaneity that I'd never seen on that channel. They then switched back to the evening movie (it appeared to be Cocoon, ironic given the age of the candidates); I bid Mr. Malazhi goodnight, turned off the set, and drifted back off to sleep for a few hours to the sound of cheering coming from the market area.

I woke this morning (again) and checked ZNBC; unlike 2008, when the American media was gushing about Obama's victory, ZNBC is still showing movies. I was briefly taken aback by the lack of news coverage, but then I realized that most of the writers / news editors were MMD functionaries or under specific direction by the governments' ruling party. With the new regime, they are pretty much out of a job ... the past year has seen little coverage (other than negative) of PF or Sata himself, so I'm sure he won't keep them around.

What happens next? Well, the Zambian Constitution stipulates that the announced winner has to be inaugurated within the day following announcements; no lame ducks to speak of in Africa. As in nature, leaders abhor a [power] vacuum. Sata will be sworn in later, form a cabinet, and then the fun begins. Stories abound of him back during the Chiluba era, when Sata was the Minister of Health; stories abound of him  showing up at hospitals unescorted and unannounced to inspect conditions. Supposedly, anyone he found asleep, late to work, playing grabass to the detriment of the patients, etc., etc., was summarily fired. Hence,  the outright fear of him in recent elections on the part of government workers; even if they retain their jobs, they will be on a heightened sense of awareness of punitive consequences for poor performance.

Who knows? It's all speculation from here forward and I don't care to enter into that realm. My sole hope is that Sata does not engage in a witch hunt of the former ruling party. One of the reasons that a peaceful transition of power in Africa is such a rare occurrence is due to the fact that the sitting party is literally scared to death of losing power under real or perceived threats of persecution by a new government (note the Ivory Coast last year). Zambia has its own precedent for that; after stepping down peacefully in 1991, the first Republican President, Dr. Kenneth Kaunda was harried constantly, briefly imprisoned, and later disqualified from running for office in a constitutional amendment that forbid persons with non-Zambian parentage from contesting. (Brief aside ... I find that last one particularly puzzling, as all these old guys were born in the colonial era when technically, there was no Zambia (or Malawi or Zimbabwe)). On the Machiavellian level, it worked quite well; Kaunda's party, the United National Independence Party (UNIP) fell apart to the extent that in this election, they might have polled 5,000 votes. (Brief aside #2 ... They have the coolest chitenges, which feature a massive, multicolored torch).

So why did MMD lose? Were people tired of perceived corruption? The massive and well-publicized influence of Chinese interests on the ruling party? The progressively one-sided election coverage in the state media? The hard hitting opposition media? Tired of the same party for 20 years? Because they liked Sata and his quick wit, stances on issues, etc.? Hard to say, but likely a combination of all of them ... and the simple answer that they didn't get enough votes.

The long and short is that Zambia is standing tall on the highest hill on the Continent today; not because of President-elect Sata himself (who is in what I wouldn't consider an enviable position as President-elect of a very poor country), but because there has a peaceful, democratic transition of power from the ruling party to the opposition under a government institution. Aside from a few riots and a single death in the Copperbelt, there has been no clatter of AK-47's, no refugees, no inter-tribal or internecine violence ... Zambia retains its status as a peace-loving nation.

No matter; millions of rural Zambians (and the thousands here in Senanga) are soon to resume eking their living from the soil which cares little for man's elections. Back to work.

Election Day, Senanga

As if I needed it, I was reminded that the five-year process was happening today by a text from my accountant promoting votes for one of the parties.

Due to my role as a Peace Corps Volunteer, and therefore an invited guest of the Zambian government, there are great proscriptions on what I can say about politics in Zambia, so I appropriately will say nothing of the parties themselves. I'll just say what I hope ... I hope there's no real violence; Africa is replete with tales of bloody elections (e.g., Kenya in 2008, every election in Zimbabwe since 1983, Ivory Coast last year, etc., etc., etc.). Zambia seems to be the one exception to all that ... I can't ascribe it to anything other than Zambians'  collective love of, and pride in, their status as a "peaceful nation". Also, as anyone who's been here can tell you, the country is so darn big and empty that violence has less of tendency to spread outside of urban areas, nor can accurate news of violence or chicanery spread from the outside-in. Though the use of the mobile internet has grown, this sort of connectivity has remained limited to urban areas.

In reality, it's not today that's "tricky" (to quote the latest Zambian buzzword to describe the election). The interesting days will be Thursday or Friday, when the Electoral Commission of Zambia (ECZ) announces the results. That's when this weary, wandering agriculturalist will hold his breath and earnestly pray.

Purchasing rice ...

Sorry for the hiatus, readers. I've been so knocked out after work that spending anytime on the Internet beyond responding to work or family emails. Part of it is due to the heat, which has attained the Philistine levels we last felt in February ... walking through the sand to work takes 35 to 40 minutes one-way, and the walk back after a day of work saps any energy I have left.

It's not only the work and the sun that leaves me beat; to be frank, I'm weary ... to paraphrase Bilbo Baggins, I feel like butter that's been spread too thinly over bread. Though we've made significant progress at our production site (the rice mill is operating well, the oil press is worn-in, and the peanut butter is still floating along), dealing with setting everything up, writing reports, strategic plans, trying to find markets, and dealing with recalcitrant farmers has me beat. For example, last week, we had set up to make our first big purchase of Supa [Mongu] rice (our preferred variety) up in Liangati along the east bank of Zambezi floodplains. We informed the Zone Chairperson, our contact person who in theory is supposed to inform the Area Farmer Associations (AFAs) in that area. Unfortunately, he told not a single person, not even in passing ... his (and the community's) focus was on the upcoming; a campaign gathering replete with food, drink, and chitenges (and likely money). Our guys went up there to find only one person had gathered rice (he had heard about the purchase whilst in our office the previous week), and he had only told his wife, as he was headed up to Mongu. Therefore, instead of 100 bags of rice, we gathered 13.

We'll try again this week, but if it goes south again, I just don't know what to do. We're coming almost to the farmers' doorstep to purchase their rice at a fair price, but that doesn't make a purchase a foregone conclusion; funerals, rallies, church functions, basically anything will derail a purchase. It's partly because we're operating differently from the Food Reserve Agency depots that have paid staff who are on-duty throughout the week, or briefcase buyers that camp out until their truck is full or barter goods get finished; we try to schedule a specific date and place for our purchases because we have to hire our transport to fetch the crops, and furthermore, you have to pay the guys to inspect, weigh, and re-bag the crops which represents a significant cost. Our farmers' simply don't understand that the logistical costs have to be borne by the cooperative (i.e., themselves) and that impacts the business; they figure that if they miss a day, we can just come back later. Explanations of this to farmers by our Zambian staff members are met with polite nods and murmurs of assent, but no real comprehension; having been fed a steady diet of government-supported maize production, purchase, and consumption, they expect all crop marketing to be entirely subservient to their own arcane schedules.

We'll see ... we paid the seller something like K1,300,000 ($260) as soon as he came back with the Goods Received Note (GRN) yesterday. That's tall tickets for out here, and if people can figure out that we'll pay them good money in good time, maybe the purchasing will pick up.

All in The [extended] Family ...

I've been trying to figure out a way to make this post more relevant and readable, but I've utterly failed. It's maybe because life gets to so mundane, to the extent that it approaches banality. If you haven't spent significant time in Zambia (or much of sub-Saharan Africa), you may wonder how I can legitimately posit that statement.

To whit, upon returning home you get a lot of really interesting quips about whatever you're doing or have done. One common response is "What a wonderful adventure you've had!" ... it brings to [my] mind paladins sallying forth to meet an irascible dragon to rescue a vapid princess, or wandering about the Serengeti amongst the lions and zebras with a tall, wiry, quietly intelligent Masai who teaches you African proverbs in the shadow of Kilimanjaro while Toto plays in the background. That is quite possibly all the way around the world from the truth; it is not a magical adventure, there is rarely the picture-perfect scenery, and some days you feel like you'd rather be anywhere else where you didn't stick out and the fresh water wasn't rife with crocs, hippos, and schisto.

Therefore, to fulfill this weBlog's dual purpose of Peace Corps Goal #3 and keep a daily record of my life, I've decided to post my daily work log (yes, as a PC Response Volunteer, I work 9-12 hours a day). I'll attach any notes for clarity immediately afterward.

Enjoy!

August 23, 2011 (Tuesday)

1. Typed up the transport request to get the seedlings from Concern to SDACSS.
2. Updated the budget from yesterday’s memo according to the new estimates.
3. Met with Brian to discuss the work we need to do for this week; typed up a to-do list for both him and the PB team.
4. Worked out what we are going to purchase for the rice production with Patrick so we can get the signatures to withdraw 8.5 million.
5. Wrote up a relish menu for the week … I think Lingela, Patrick, and I will be splitting the cost three ways, roughly K30,000/week and the production team will be taking care of the nshima.
6. Went to town to get Mrs. Mubita’s signature for withdrawing the operations funding for the end of this week, then sent Aka off to Kaeya to get Mrs. Makina’s signature. Mrs. Mubita entertained us with the issues resulting from having 19 family members over at once.
7. Talked to Aka about how to write up memos, specifically about the issues surrounding pay increments for the CA-FEWs. Will work with him on the options and recommendations; hopefully, we can set up a uniform, incentive-based system.
8. Continued penciling in he CEEC form; call Elias Lungu (MDFA) to send his CEEC proposal to us so we can paraphrase it.
9. Made up a spreadsheet to calculate maximum costs of trips (up to 3 trips to the same bulking centres), assuming use of the Concern 4x4 carrying 7 tons.
10. Completed the float form to receive K8,500,000 (yes, that’s eight-point-five million kwacha).
11.  Revised the float form so we could fill it out online; would have Patrick do it, but he’s just about going nuts with stuff today as he’s travelling to Sitangamanyanga for FRA certification.   
12. Lingela came back today from their field visit to Eastern Province; after handing him his gift from the U.S. (a dictionary and a thesaurus), he gave me good news … they brought back Gliricidia sepium seeds from Mwsekara in Chipata. Good thing as the one tree here is just starting to produce seeds, albeit very slowly.
13. Got back into town around 18:00; went into the market to check on the tinsmiths who are working on the exhaust pipe for the rice mill. It wasn’t nearly right; they hadn’t used a measuring tape, the ingress of the pipe wasn’t squared, and they claimed to have used all two square meters the sheet metal … a blatant lie, as what they had made was about half the metal they were given. I need to go back with Munalula tomorrow morning and figure out what went wrong.

Notes:
#6 - Mrs. Mubita's husband is Mr. Mooto's uncle, who's elder sister (Mr. Mooto's mother) arrived from Lusaka to go to the hospital. Why did she come here? Well, you go to where your family is so they can take care of you. Conveniently enough, whenever a matriarch figure rolls into town, everyone else in the family comes to be with her, parking with the lucky host. Currently, Mrs. Mubita has 19 people around her household; I've had dinner there before and I know that 8 are more or less permanent residents, so she has 11 extras to feed. They aren't expected, nor do they seem to do very much, and their departure date is not confirmed. Nor can she complain to them. Culturally, it is verboten to ask your relatives to leave, much less for them to carry their own weight, or to complain about them within the family. Needless to say, she complained to us in her own inimical way, describing in detail the money her relatives had but wouldn't part with to purchase "only a little relish or mealie-meal." Mr. Munalula kept nodding and generalizing, "Ahh, we Africans have problems."

#10 I'm carrying a lot of money into and around Lusaka this weekend. Not as worrying as you would assume (I ride around with taxi-drivers I know well when carrying), but not entirely comforting. Also, the 8,500,000 came in mostly 20,000 pin notes ... you do the math, but my briefcase looks likes I'm pulling off a heroin deal rather than buying rice bags.

#11 Sitangamanyanga qualifies as having one of the longest names and longest distances (140km) from the Boma of any of our satellite FRA depots. Patrick is notoriously unlucky when traveling into the bush; the last time they went into the deep sand a month ago, their car got stuck, then blew a tire; he didn't get back home until 1:00 AM. Needless to say, he's a tad gunshy heading out to Senanga's equivalent of Siberia.

#12 This is a common theme here nearly every day. If you want something done right ...

Be it ever so humble ...

The heat is finally picking up again and the edge has gone off the early morning chill. Tomorrow, we’re supposed to hit the mid-30s Centigrade, so need to brace myself for the next season. Others call it the hot, dry season; I call it the not-sleep-very-well-inside-modern-house season. Not sure if this is common knowledge, but I live in a room attached to the Concern Worldwide office in Senanga. Yes, I live at the office … but it does have a [cold] shower, a sink, and the Internet, so not bad. However, it has ceilings, which are not good. 

-----------

I was never so impressed with traditional grass roofs as when I stopped living under one. You see, a grass roof is permeable to air (and sometimes water, but that’s another story), so the dry heat of the day tends to waft away. Also, the walls of mud brick huts don’t retain heat very well, and hence they cool easily. Not so much a “modern” house with “proper” bricks and ceilings … they absorb heat throughout the day and radiate it back throughout the night. The ceilings, which were intended to reduce the direct heat that bakes through the tin, tile, or asbestos sheeting,  manage to minimize air flow throughout the house, so the house heats up on hot days and rarely cools off.

-------

Speaking of home … I went to Washington, D.C. ten days ago (August 10) for a job interview. Hopped across the ocean on a Monday-Tuesday and came back on a Saturday-Sunday-Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday. To be honest, I didn’t move on Tuesday, as the very notion of 12 hours on the bus back to Senanga chilled my spine, so I spent the day scouting retail prices for Mongu rice and picking up equipment for the production site.

Arriving back, everyone kept asking me the same thing: _How was home? I tried to explain that Washington, though very nice and full of exceedingly well-dressed go-getters, was not home and that home was far away in a wonderful place called Upper Michigan (and yes, Paul Simon: it seems like a dream to me now). The sand is limited to the beaches, the beaches surround cool, clear lakes, the lakes have no crocodiles, etc., etc.

The Zambian equivalent of a blank stare is a blank stare, albeit supplemented by a slight nodding of the head and a sound that is like a drawn-out “ohhhh?” with tonal variation, sort of like the “Really?” or “You don’t say?” expressions that Americans use. You know … a polite way of saying “How dumb do you think I am?” or “You’re so full of it you stink”. When I kept explaining that I hadn’t gone home, I guess people thought that returning to the cultural markers with which I’m supposedly familiar (McDonalds, streetlights, white people, etc.) was close enough to home and that I was trying to confuse them. Or that I had family in D.C.; I don’t, but I did see a number of close friends. Maybe the definitions of home vary. Anyway, I got a lot of blank stares and "ohhh?"'s ... nothing too new.

----------

A little local business news: We are moving forward on the rice bags finally … just before I boosted for D.C. we got the other infernal engine up and running, so now we are going to try and make a market in Lusaka for small packages of rice originating in Senanga. It means I’ll back on the bus Thursday, running around the industrial area again, wrangling and haggling for a better price; but if we can get this thing going … it just might turn the corner for us.  

Laurentina Preta (Mozambique, Part I)

My throat is killing me since I got the epipleural bone (i.e., "Y-bone") of a tiger fish crosswise in my gullet at Yonas' (my doppelganger for the Mongu District Farmers' Association) going-away party last weekend; consequently, I'm guzzling tea and battling sleep. Speaking of sleep, it appears our days of lovely sleeping weather are drawing to a close. Though the temperatures are still somewhat brisk in the morning, there is less smoke on the horizon in the morning and evenings, which suggests to me that air temperatures are on the rise.

Sigh.

To put a point on it, I don't want to type much tonight, so instead, you can read my work journal from Mozambique! Enjoy, and soon you too will be sleepy.

Lights out and now I lay me down to sleep ....

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Gorongosa National Park – Buffer Zone

CA Consultation

Trip Notes / Journal (July 10-16, 2011):

Carl T. Wahl

July 10, 2011 (Sunday)

1.       Flew from Lusaka to Joburg (07:15 – 09:00)

2.       Flew from Joburg to Beira (11:30 – 13:30)

3.       Visa / etc. at BEW

4.       Transport from BEW to Gorongosa (14:30 – 17:30)

a.       Dropped off Joy Yu (filmmaker) at Chitengo

b.      Returned to CEC by 18:30; dropped.

5.       Met with Marty Sampson (MS)

a.       Briefed by MS on project basics and schedule for next week.

b.      Ate dinner, set up for evening

July 11, 2011 (Monday)

1.       Woke at 05:15

2.       Waited for bus to Chitengo from 06:00 – 07:10

3.       Took bus from CEC to Chitengo (about 35 minutes)

4.       Breakfast

5.       Skype conference call with Robert Layng (USAID, Maputo) [08:20 – 09:00]; Covered the finer points of what we were looking for in the project, such as the CA potential, potential for market access, market assessment for Villa Gorongosa, etc.

6.       Introductions with GNP staff (within Chitengo) [ongoing throughout the day]

7.       Guided visit to Vino (sic) to observe local agriculture practices / conditions

a.       Observed numerous agroforestry species

                                                               i.      Faidherbia albida (isolated trees in floodplain of Pungue River)

                                                             ii.      Sesbania macrantha (along main channel of Pungue River)

                                                            iii.      Cajunus cajun (appears to a part of local farming systems (as in coastal plains along highway from Beira to GNP)) … extensive planting, appears to be both white [predominant] and red varieties).

b.      Observed the winter cropping of maize in floodplains adjacent to the Pungue. Most of maize was monocropped, with two exceptions where beans were intercropped with the maize (one was common beans, the other was cowpeas).

c.       Briefly interviewed a woman who was threshing beans at her household; white [kidney] beans, bush variety, cropped with the maize after the first weeding. Cropping was intentional, but knowledge appeared to be inherited.

d.      Soils in general appear to be alluvial (i.e., fluvisols / Vertisols) … basic soil texturing showed high amounts of silt. Layered appearance, little aggregation in tilled soils.

e.      Maize health appeared alright … deep green plants in shallow basins, but variance noted particularly away from streams. Difficult to ascertain whether it was a nutrient or a water deficiency, but guess was former given the yellowed color of the entire plant.

f.        Maize seed appears to be saved from year-to-year. Guide (Fernando) remarked that generally, healthy cobs from strong plants were selected and hung in kitchen shelters for wood smoke to discourage insect predation. Seeds are selected from “fat” parts of cob; tops are retained for food.

g.       Most maize appeared to be white.

h.      Noted boiled Vigna subterranea (bambara nuts or “nyimu”) in small market near school. Apparently, only served in this fashion; not much dry nuts.

Notes:          Vino might serve as a demonstration area given proximity to Chitengo; would make a good site for higher profile, short-time visitors. However, veracity of plot(s) as farmer demos might questionable due to the differences from the buffer area nearer Mt. Gorongosa: soils, flooding capacity, rainfall regime, etc. 

8.       Returned to Chitengo around 13:00 (lunch).

9.       Continued with introductions and discussions from 14 – 15; met with Mateus, GNP executive director; briefly discussed the upcoming days’ programs around Mwansa, Vunduzi, etc.

10.   Returned to CEC after 16:00; did email and wrote up day’s report.

11.   Returned after 18:00hrs. to Villa Gorongosa [VG] (arrive 19:00).

12.   Ate dinner with GRP director of reforestation, Mr. Mugeura. Amazing resource for tree knowledge, had excellent conversation with him over dinner.

July 12, 2011 (Tuesday)

1.       Woke at 06:00

2.       After breakfast, was picked up by GRP driver to go to the GRP office in VG by 08:00.

3.       Met at office with Mr. Mugeura, Ignacio Tomas (Forestry Technician), Tongai Castillo (Science Technician). Briefly discussed day’s activities.

4.        By 8:20, on road up to Vunduzi area

a.       Observations from vehicle:

                                                               i.      Population density is significantly higher than I expected.

                                                             ii.      Most land cultivated.

                                                            iii.      Standing crops observed were sorghum, pigeon pea, and sunflower.

                                                           iv.      Significant slope variation, but very little level land (slope < 10%). Cultivation up the mountainside on the Vunduzi (east) slope appears to be limited due to the steep face, particularly in the portion that “hooks” around the upper reaches of the Vunduzi stream.

                                                             v.      Homesteads appear to be distributed along the road, but not necessarily clustered. 

b.      Stopped by one nursery for the mountain’s reforestation project. Large numbers of indigenous tree seedlings (at least 20 separate groups of 700 seedlings apiece).

                                                               i.      Observed the soil conditions in nearby area of tree regrowth; significant amounts of organic matter; texture appeared to be sandy loam or loam conditions. Soil very friable, appeared well-drained, and had very good aggregate structure.

                                                             ii.      Significant amounts of Mucuna purpurens [sic] (“Velvet bean”, or locally known as “Buffalo beans”) growing wild in the area. However, the beans appear to be almost noxious [invasive] in nature, and are unfortunately, the type that features a very hairy / velvety exterior, causing significant irritation if brought in contact with skin.

c.       Met with one of the forestry extension agents along the road (the same one who oversees the nursery. We went with him (along with his compatriot, another local farmer)

                                                               i.      Farming same area since 1994 [17 years!] Constant cropping of mainly maize / sorghum.

                                                             ii.      Some education extension done by FHI (ask from Marty) in 2009

1.       Taught to plant maize in lines; not to intermix.

2.       Similar to CA with people instructed to bury leaves.

3.       People to follow instructions closely.

                                                            iii.      People double-cropping maize and sorghum simultaneously

1.       No fertilizer used.

2.       Maize planted in November with first rains; sorghum intercropped in following week.

3.       Maize harvested in April (4 months); sorghum harvested in July / August (currently being harvested).

4.       Maize / sorghum seed all heirloom (observed later at mother-in-law’s village); white maize saved based off size of cobs, as well as durability of endocarp.

5.       Maize grown both as food and as market crop; excess is sold. Sorghum valued especially as food crop.

6.       Crop planted in essentially zero-tillage system; little soil agitation other than opening planting holes and weeding.

7.       Maize weeded thrice; sorghum another time.

8.       Stover on field burned after sorghum harvest (August / September)

9.       Weeding done by entire family, plus hired labour (farmer is paid small stipend by GRP through reforestation project).

                                                           iv.      Soil very good on field (dark sandy loam, decent aggregation), but remarkable heterogeneity in soils; observed pure ferrolsols in adjacent field that was slightly higher, then deep rich loam adjacent to a neighbor’s house that was used for sweet potato cultivation. Farmer mentioned that field with ferralsolic soils could now longer produce maize and they were only growing sorghum. They appeared to have wild ginger growing on them, a usual sign of acidity. Farmers indicated that drainage on most soils seemed quite good; didn’t seem to have waterlogged conditions.

                                                             v.      Pigeon peas grown on field boundaries and in some pure stands; market value for crop very good and people increasing hectarage. Market value of green peas (unshelled) was 40 meticais for a 20kg bag; for shelled, dried peas, the value was 60 meticais for 1 gallon. Observed at least three varieties of pigeon peas, mottled, red, and white. Fairly extensive cultivation.

                                                           vi.      Some cassava, but only isolated along field boundaries … used for paying workers / hired labour.

5.       Returned from Vunduzi around 14:00-14:30; ate lunch.  

6.       Had a minor emergency … lost Visa card, so had to call the US and cancel.

7.       Did internet around 16:00 just briefly.

8.       Visited market area between 16:30 and 17:30.

a.       Interesting setup; very similar to Zambia, with spatial clustering of wholesalers, goods, etc.; for example, fish and small amounts of bread are all sold within a central shed.

b.      Local people appear to purchase packaged foodstuffs from large [South Asian] wholesalers, then retail in smaller “tuck” shops.

c.       Couldn’t find peanut butter … interesting. Asked Marty whether people liked to eat it … he said people loved roasted groundnuts, but there was never very much around.

d.      Appears that people are selling lots of beans (white & sugar) and fresh maize informally.

July 13, 2011 (Wednesday)

1.       Woke at 06:30; not feeling well (stomach bug).

2.       After breakfast, was picked up by GRP driver to go to the GRP office in VG just after 08:00. Today, we were accompanied by Mr. Maguera, as he wanted to see the forest nursery in Nhariroza.

3.       Went up to the west face of the mountain to two different sites:

a.       Flavio’s field

                                                               i.      Went to Muguera’s brother-in-law’s (Flavio’s) field. Trip to field through dry woodland with very little farming (soil appeared quite dry, leached clay). Most of tree cover was murula trees; all cultivated areas were near to the base of the mountain where soils appeared richer.

                                                             ii.      Stopped and looked at Flavio’s field … he (or his workers) had tilled the soil using a tractor (large >5 hectare) field. Soil appeared to be oxisol / ultisol; rich A layer over hard B layer.

                                                            iii.      Interviewed a farmer [Samwell Gideon] who stayed in the small village adjacent to Flavio’s field; he told us the following about his fields higher up the mountain.

1.       Little digging done in fields; less than 10cm deep to plant seeds.

2.       Crops are maize, sorghum, pumpkins, and cucumber. Maize is grown by itself; latter three are mixed.

3.       Residues burned annually prior to planting.

4.       Fields switched annually; didn’t admit to opening new fields.

5.       Assesses yields according to uniformity of crop growth at stages of growth and color. Sometimes assesses based off yields, particularly the measures of shelled maize in traditional bins.

6.       Interesting note on land use / land tenure … said that children (young men) usually struck out on their own and cleared new land after getting married. Asked him whether people inherited land; got a rather confusing answer that it could be inherited, but usually only one child took the land over (i.e., the land didn’t get split up).

b.      Observed the junction market on the confluence of the road from Flavio’s area and the highway leading from Villa Gorongosa. Potatoes were the predominant feature, selling for 100 meticais per basin (approximately 1.5 – 2 gallons); most of them came directly from the slopes of the mountain 5km away. Beans were also for sale, notably “sugar” beans (mottled colored, sweet beans).

c.       Nhariroza

                                                               i.      Visited the tree nursery; again, very large, well-maintained nursery with something like 15,000 to 20,000 seedlings.

                                                             ii.      Moved further (3km) down the road, which though somewhat steep and slippery in places, is used by minibuses and trucks at least daily.

                                                            iii.      Parked the truck and descended by foot into a stream valley that paralleled the mountain slope running roughly north to south. Not sure whether it drains into GNP, but their was a significant population density and impact on the hillsides was apparent; there were few remaining trees except along the stream banks, and uncropped areas were covered with thick elephant grass.

                                                           iv.      Cropped areas appeared to be similar to the norm we saw the previous day; sorghum, with the maize having been harvested previously. Most of the fields appeared to follow natural boundaries (e.g., streams that bisect saddles along the slopes), which leaves a sort of no-mans-land boundary that is uncropped, fortuitous for controlling erosion. However, at least 30% of field covered the saddles, with no cover over the drainage. For the most part, the rows appeared to run across the contour of the slope, but tough to tell whether it was intentional or not.

                                                             v.      Aside from the sorghum which was standing dead, the valleys of most of the slopes appeared to be cropped to [Irish] potatoes, grown using surface [furrow] irrigation. We crossed the stream and interviewed some of the farmers growing potatoes in the main cleft of the valley.

1.       Potatoes are planted originally in furrows; after they germinate and reach 10-20 cm, the plants are buried and irrigated between furrows.

2.       Furrows along which potatoes are planted run roughly along the contour, likely as a means of controlling the flow of water.

3.       Main channels run straight down the slope; farmers use large stones to impede water and force it into the furrows.

4.       Upslope areas were used for potatoes; downslope for brassicas and onions.

5.       The outflow from the main channels was back into the stream. There appeared to be no reservoir or check dam.

6.       Farmers said that potatoes could be cropped from sometime in March through August; there was a narrow chance they could get two crops. They mentioned the farmers further upslope (above 700m by our reckoning) could grow potatoes year-round. [These fields were readily apparent and could be seen extending up to the cloud line, which was at or around 800m]

7.       Farmers said that it was FHI and the district agricultural office that had shown them how to grow the potatoes, distributed seed, etc., about three years ago.

8.       Farmers were provided (I’m not sure if it was a loan scheme or what) with what they call “N-P-K”, a mineral fertilizer similar to Compound D with an N-P-K rating of 12-24-12. It is applied at a rate of two (2) 20 liter jerry can lids in-between each planting station.

9.       Pests and blight didn’t seem to be a problem.

10.   Farmers grew the potatoes for the market, but they weren’t too thrilled about the prices. When I asked them why they grew them if the prices weren’t good, and got the expected answer that low prices are better than no price at all.

                                                           vi.      Topsoil (A layer) at Nhariroza is categorically the best soil I have ever seen in my life. Using hand texturing, I figured it to be either a loam or silt loam. Black, light, and seems fairly well trained. It varies in depth from 4 to 8 inches. Rapid transition into subsoil (B layer), heavy red silty clay.

                                                          vii.      Returned to Villa Gorongosa by 15:00 for a late lunch, to type notes, etc.  

July 14, 2011 (Thursday)

1.       Awoke early, packed for trip around northern edge of park to Muanza.

2.       After withdrawing money, fueling the vehicle, getting food, etc., we departed Villa Gorongosa at 8:40 hours up the Vunduzi / Casa Banana Road.

3.       Clearer skies afforded a better view of Mount Gorongosa today. Encroachment on the southern / eastern slopes appears to be limited due to the steeper faces than those on the western slope. In some cases, the faces appear to be sheer and/or bare rock. Observed a great deal of water coming off the west slope.

4.       After passing the Vunduzi River and the site of our visits on Tuesday, we rather swiftly (within 5km) entered a significantly different soil landscape as we turned northeast (away from the mountain). We passed a number of shallow, deforested valleys in which similar cropping practices as nearer to the mountain were apparent. However, these areas featured a much thinner, pebble / cobble dominated topsoil with significantly less inherent organic matter. The relatively recent appearance (within the past year) of the felled trees and stumps indicated that unlike the rich soils we observed in the previous two days, the area’s soil had very little inherent fertility and is likely agronomically fit for only planting trees. My suspicion is that these fields were cleared as a result of population pressure and a lack of available land in the richer soils next to the mountain.

These areas continued intermittently for some distance up to the two isolated enselbergs 15-20 km northeast of Vunduzi almost to the Casa Banana junction.

5.       After Casa Banana, we the road straightened significantly, and the soil regime again changed. From the enselbergs to the point at which the road angles across the Mecombeze stream, soils were ferralsolic [oxisols] in nature, with a deep red color. The landscape was also significantly flatter, with fields that were evenly distributed on either side of the road, and were dominated by sorghum that had been recently harvested; the stover was simply left in situ for later burning, and the heads were stacked on stick-and-fiber tables in the fields. In a few cases, we also saw harvested, shocked sesame drying in the fields. Pigeon peas were also evident, but not nearly in the quantities observed by Villa Gorongosa or Vunduzi. Fields were significantly bigger than in Vunduzi; most looked to be over 2.5 hectares in size.

Along the way, we stopped by a post for the park rangers / patrol, whom we greeted and chatted with for a few minutes. The size of the trees (Africanus str., Tamarindus indicus) suggests that the underlying soil fertility and moisture might be considerable.

6.       Following the Mecombeze stream crossing, we entered a fairly unpopulated area of marsh; after 10 or 20km, we re-entered a miombo forest. Soon after, we encountered the first of a number of tractor-trailers hauling logs out of the area. Mr. Mageura informed me that these were mature pod mahogany (Afzelia quansis) being trucked out for processing and export (notable at this juncture was the hiatus in Mr. Maguera’s usually jovial chatting and whistling; he appeared remarkably saddened by the logging). These trucks and logging operations continued until the junction of the road with the railway line that leads eventually to Muanza.

7.       The last leg of our journey to Muanza was through a series of forest concessions that roughly parallel the eastern boundary of the park. This was one of the most intact and extensive tract of miombo woodland I have seen outside of Northwestern Zambia. Aside from a few trucks working on road rehabilitation, a camp for minesweepers, and a few other isolated camps, we drove through unbroken, lonely forest. At 12:30, the forest abruptly parted and we arrived in Muanza.

8.       We acquired a room at the Tianshian Guesthouse on the north side of town and ordered lunch. However, lunch did not arrive by 13:50, so we departed in order to meet with the district agricultural officer and the local extension officer by 14:00. Our meeting was more of a meet-and-greet, as the officer is himself new to the area. Mr. Mageura introduced us and they spoke of the upcoming relocation of the fishing community within the park (Lake Urema) to an area just south and east of Muanza.

9.       After the meeting, we loaded into the vehicle and visited the relocation sites. The first was parallel to and east of the railroad tracks; the second was west of the railroad and also contained the future housing sites for the people being relocated.

We dug around in the farming sites, both in the flat and from the termite mounds interspersed throughout the landscape. The soil is basically leached sand to a depth of 40 or 50 cm, under which is a heavy, gleyed clay layer. On closer inspection, I detected oxidization along the root channels, indicating a possibility of water logging. The termite mounds also showed a significant amount of almost pure clay. The top 10 cm of the soil in the forested areas was considerably darker with organic matter; however, in a field we visited that had been cleared of trees and cropped for only a single season (to maize), this organic layer was at least half as deep. I suspect the increased sunlight and rain intensity helped reduce the organic matter significantly.

We chatted with the agriculture officers about the possibilities for the crops in the areas; I suggested that root crops (e.g., cassava and sweet potato) might be good options (we saw significantly more of these in Muanza than anywhere else). They were warm to the idea of cassava, as supposedly, there is a scheme afoot to chip the cassava roots and grind it for a tapioca-style pudding. Also, I got the idea that agricultural inputs were not really practical in the current state of affairs, likely given the distance and the relative new state of the government posts.

10.   We retired to the guest house at 17:00.

July 15, 2011 (Friday)

1.       We met with Graham Taylor immediately after breakfast. Mr. Taylor is a Zimbabwean ex-pat farmer who moved to Mozambique three years ago. Mostly, we discussed the relative merits of conservation methods, his suggestions, and his ideas for boosting both agriculture productivity and soil conservation in the area. We also discussed some of the finer points of marketing various farm products and ways to increase the farmgate price. Interesting conversation; seems that there is considerable potential for sesame and pigeon pea if the crops can be bulked.

We also went over some of the finer points of his proposal to promote conservation agriculture and agri-business; my impression is that from his point of view, he will do the work with or without our help, but it might influence where he works and how fast he can get started.

2.       Visited the sites from yesterday again with Mr. Taylor; he suggested that some experimentation take place to see how well sesame and pigeon pea would grow in the area.

3.       We departed from Muanza for Beira at 11:30. Not much to mention other than that some 20 km south of Muanza, the forest gives way to farmed lands and the population density increases rather precipitously.

4.       We arrived in Beira by 14:00; after lunch, parted ways with Marty and Mr. Mageura, who left me at the Tivoli Hotel in Beira around 15:30.

July 16, 2011 (Friday)

1.       Returned to Johannesburg, South Africa on the 13:30 out of Beira.

2.       Returned to Lusaka, Zambia on the 18:55 out of Johannesburg.

July 19, 2011 (Tuesday)

1.       Returned to Senanga, Zambia.