Pre Service Training

"If you give a man a fish, he will have a single meal. If you teach him how to fish, he will eat all his life." - Kuan Tzu


Learning takes practice, wisdom takes experience. You can sit in a classroom, listen to lectures, take notes, or read exorbitant amounts of literature, but without the tangible, practical experience of a real life scenario you will never fully grasp what it means to 'know' your subject matter (for most practical subjects). Since being in Peace Corps, I can confidently say that I have learned more in the few months of being here then I have during years of schooling. 'Ethnography' is the practice of researching a subject by emerging yourself within it. As a Peace Corps volunteer, we embody this style of research and for me it has proven to be the most effective style of learning that one can expose themselves to on so many levels. It has been nearly 2 months since being in country and when I look back on all that I have learned I amaze myself and wonder how.


Pre Service Training entails 11 weeks of intense language lessons, technical training in fish farming and cross cultural studies for RAP volunteers like myself. Most of us had little to no direct experience or knowledge in any of these subjects before coming to Zambia. In fact, the vast majority of us hadn't even been to Africa. Prior to training, we had to forfeit our independence and accept being on someone else's schedule. For those of us who didn't particularly enjoy being in school, it was a grueling, tedious and repetitive 11 weeks. But for those of us who did't mind being in a learning atmosphere, it was an opportunity to gain more knowledge then we ever thought possible within such a brief amount of time.


For Language, I was assigned Nyanja with 3 other gentlemen as we were all to be posted near one another in the eastern province where Nyanja was the dominant language. Zambia has over 70 languages and we (all of the PCV's) were being taught 7 of the most common depending on where we were assigned to post. Nyanja happened to be one of the most widely spoken languages in country (also spoken in Angola, Mozambique, Malawi and Zimbabwe) . Our language lessons typically began in the morning; Monday through Saturday, for 4 hours. We'd meet at our instructors house at 8 a.m. via bike. In getting there, we had to navigate through a maze of elaborate shanty huts and unmarked neighborhoods. Using our instincts and making note of unusual mile markers( like when you see the clothesline attached to the broken down pick up turn left), we eventually developed an effective and scenically rich route, we were way out of our American element, but commuting was a much more exciting experience as opposed to sitting in traffic on the 15 South every morning. Screaming eways (small children) were our morning radio as they would run along side us screaming repeatedly ("How are you, how are you?") desperate to get some kind of response. We rode down rugged dirt trails and through neighborhoods with huts the size of American walk in closets, yet the locals would always smile and greet us as we ventured to our language lesson.


Our Instructors name was Charles a Zambian native coming from the Eastern Province. He was a characteristically rich gentlemen with a great sense of humor and effective teaching style. He embodied everything you'd want in a language instructor; patience, comedy, yet structure and encouragement. He didn't compulsively control where our conversations would stray even if they ventured into inappropriate 'man talk'. His motto was for us to 'be free' because he believed the more he forbid and regulated, the more there would be resistance and resentment. He always stressed that in a learning atmosphere the teacher is not the only one teaching, and he always asked us questions and was eager to learn more about us and our culture as he himself had never visited America. Charles was wise far beyond his years, and because we didn't abuse his leniency and because we were still determined to take learning Nyanja serious, we found an ideal combination of drive, entertainment and effective learning in every session we had together. We had a great relationship and all bonded well.


My two Nyanja counterparts and partners in crime were Tony from L.A., and Tom from Chicago, and they were great peers. We all seemed to share a similar sense of humor and looked out for each other with a sense of comradely that grew as the training progressed. They had both studied a language prior to Nynaja, and were much better at understanding the dynamics that went into learning a second language. I on the other hand, was pretty much in the dark as to how to best go about studying a second language. Their pace encouraged me to pick up mine, and with the determination in not wanting to fall behind or become the obvious weak link in the chain, I studied long hours at night in attempt to make up for my lack of linguistical talent and did pretty well in catching up to them.


In a typical day we would return from home-stays after language for lunch, then bike (about 8 km) to our technical class for fish farming studies. Here we learned everything from biology, anatomy, botany, integrated agriculture, horticulture and aquaculture. Some sessions entailed technical lectures, while most involved hands on training and field trips to local fisheries or fish ponds. We learned how to create plankton blooms, how to handle fish, spawning cycles, genetics, troubleshooting unproductive fish ponds and how to integrate aquaculture with other relevant ecosystems. Some of my favorite classes involved building structures with our hands from raw materials and the construction of appropriate technologies. One of my favorite sessions was where we constructed a chicken coup with reeds and bark from a near by pond. It brought me back to my childhood when I use to construct forts out of sheets and chairs and anything else I could find around the house, only now I was doing it for a meaningful purpose other then to keep my sisters out.


On Tuesdays our class would participate in cross culture sessions. A rather long day where we'd listened to lectures and experiences of our Zambian staff members regarding their culture and then compare them to our own. For some, these days were dreaded, and I'll admit, on certain sessions much of the material wasn't very necessary, but as a government organization, PC had legal obligation to be redundant and through. Some topics were appealing and interesting like; how Zambians go about marriage and dating, funeral and ceremonial burials, and headmen and chief edict. Then there were those topics that were a bit difficult to sit through without taking a few bathroom breaks like; sexual asphalts, and stress coping mechanisms. We also learned a lot about diseases and medical disorders which were both interesting and somewhat stressful( in that it reminded us that Africa was quite the dangerous continent). We had several sessions on HIV/AIDS and Malaria as these two diseases were very ubiquitous and responsible for the high mortality rate throughout the country. Another tragic stat for Zambia is that it is among the top few countries with the highest concentration of HIV/AIDS in the entire world, and a big part of PC's funding is from an organization called PEPFAR (an AIDS relief organization). Much of our assignment entails raising awareness and integrating AIDS and malaria prevention into our communities and to encourage families and individuals to get tested on a regular basis. I have gained so much knowledge regarding AIDS and Malaria since coming to country. I feel that it will be a valuable tool in saving lives at the grass roots level.


Much of my learning has taken place outside of the classroom in places like the market, bars, or just in passing. Most Zambians have been very friendly and approachable always willing to communicate and hear a few words in English, and are always rather surprised when I display my Nyanja skills. Bargaining and shopping was always an adventure. Strolling through the boma(market) never got old as it was unlike any market in the states offering the opportunity to negotiate prices, buy fresh food and bear witness to a nearly overwhelming amount of smells, sounds and sights. Tony, Tom and I befriended a shop keeper that we called 'big man' who was always enthusiastic and welcoming whenever we came to visit him. He could get us anything we wanted that we couldn't find in exchange that we agreed to play for his struggling soccer team. Yet in the one game we played with his team we couldn't be of much help(Zambians may not be the best at soccer, but they make up for it in endurance). Ultimately though, he was just happy we participated.


There have been studies regarding what specifics contribute to the success of a successful PCV, and one of the number one determining factors have been language, and the volunteers effort at mastering it and using it within their village post. Most PCV's test at a moderate level by the end of PST, and then go on to work only with other villagers that speak English, and eventually loose what skills they have been taught by the end of their 2 year service. However many others strive to master their language long after PST ends, and continue using it in their village and whenever possible gaining a stronger sense of respect from their farmers, counterparts and community and giving them a wider scope of farmers they are capable of working with. Many times these volunteers end their 2 year service as fluent as any other local villager. Coming across volunteers that have this fluency and discipline inspire me to keep at my language no matter how frustrated or exhausted I am with it. I do believe that it can dictate a great deal of trust and friendship as villagers recognize and respect the effort in a white foreigner trying to learn their culture and language.



I constantly hear many of my peers making grand plans for what they will pursue after they end service in 2 years time. Most plan on pursuing a higher degree at a university so they can go on to obtain a high paying job. This was my initial plan as Peace Corps does offer enticing packages regarding pursuing higher education upon COS(close of service). But when I compare the results of what one gains out of the Peace Corps compared to what one gains from pursing a higher degree, I only see one logical choice. Paying an unfeasible amount of money to a university that will mostly make you write, read and stress about a particular subject until a given standard is met does not seem to be as educationally rich and unique as what one gains by going through the Peace Corps experience. Sure you end up with a fancy piece of paper that might get you a job where you most likely manage other people and attend to 5 days a week Monday through Friday only to be looking up the ladder as to whom above you is going to retire first. Or, you can travel the world, see new things, constantly learn, do something new everyday, have employment freedom, speak new languages and help others besides yourself. All which appeal to me far more then stock piling a bank account. A house, a car, nice things are all tempting and enticing and part of the American dream, but at a second glance, I see a sense of slavery and demobilization. Who has the chance to travel the world aside from a brief vacation when you have a car payment or mortgage to make every month? I choose to pursue the career of a volunteer, see the world and learn as much as possible first hand before I croak. Traveling and assimilating into other cultures is educationally everlasting, offers tremendous growth, and focuses on bettering lives, yet in the process, one is also helping themselves become a better and more complete individual. I may never have a 3 bedroom house, a sports car, or a wife and kids, but what I will have is the accumulation of a vast number of worldly experiences that no gained fortune could ever buy. My time is far too precious to waste behind a desk, or whilst paying bills. The worlds a big place and I plan on seeing , learning and experiencing as much as possible one country at a time..