Maren goes to Zambia

“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.” - George Moore

Its tough to leave behind friends and family. And its even more so when you do it for a considerable amount of time. Like say - 2 years. Saying your last fair wells at airports, doorways or while exiting cars is an emotional and unfair experience. The final moment is approaching days, months, hours and minutes before that fateful time comes, but there's really no way to prepare yourself, no arrangement of words, or types of embraces that can make the goodbye any less painful and agonizing then what it will be. Good byes are consistently brutal when it comes to the ones you love. 

And in an instant; its over. You broke eye contact- you stepped away. You're on your way and now waiting to board a plane - talking to yourself, calming yourself down and envisioning the path ahead. In different versions, its happened to us all. Our first day of school, our first day of college, our first days at the job and, for us PCV's, at the airport on the way to our countries of service. 

I have now been in Zambia for almost 15 months without seeing one of my friends or family member's from back home. Some of those departures were harder then others, but among them all, the goodbye to my sister seemed to standout the most. It wasn't the most emotional, but the most unemotional that made it what it was for two reasons. One, she was on the brink of starting her own service and knew what I was going thorough, and two, it didn't seem that it would be two years until our next encounter. And it wouldn't - thanks to the sale of here truck and here curiosity of Africa.

My sister came off her plane two hours delayed from Paraguay close to midnight in mid November about a year after I said goodbye. She didn't see me as she hustled out of the baggage return area, but I knew it was her from the purpose of her pace and determination of wanting a 2 day travel experience to be over and done with- she was the first to come out. She hadn't changed much physically from what I had noticed other then excusably looking tired and jet lagged. Immediately after hugging her and hearing her voice it became comforting to have another family member around again. It was a subtle reminder of how much I missed her, and was missing others back home. I had planned quite the Zambian vacation for us with the short amount of time we had together - just 3 weeks, and it was just starting.

Our first stop in the excursion was none other then the flagstone of Zambia, the largest waterfall and one of the seven wonders of the world - Victoria Falls. The travel down to Livingstone would prove to be quite the experience for my sister, and her first taste into some of the quarks and hardships of a PCV in Zambia. We hitchhiked from Lusaka to Livingstone - about a 6 hour drive straight, but something like 8 hours when hitching in and out of vehicles with a group of three - My sister, my girlfriend and myself. We stood on the side of roads, ate cold meat pies, solved crosswords, chatted, joked and complained in the hot sun and in the back of different hitches. We made it down and checked into our backpacker lodge just before dark. The next day we visited the National park and saw the legendary waterfall but were disappointed by what we saw. I have visited Victoria Falls one time previously and was in awe by the tremendous flow of water coming from the Zambezi river over the gorge - however that was rain season; this time it was dry season, and what we saw was hardly more then an empty canyon with slight water trickles coming down a few of the rock faces. Not what I had hoped for. 

Happy to be there regardless - we left the dry National park and went to a nearby posh resort/ lodge for a Zambezi booze cruse I had heard great things about - a 2 hour boating cruse at sunset around the falls. We drank, spotted wild game including Hippos and Crocodiles, and met delightful and talkative people from all ends of the world. Even a few from America. It was a wonderful way to conclude the day and despite the lack of liquid falling at the falls earlier that day, we made up for it by creating a mini Victoria falls from our mouths to our bladders with all you can drink booze for 2 hours. The remainder of our time in Livingstone was spent around town and at another elegant resort called the Royal Livingstone. We felt completely out of place the entire time despite the fact that we were wearing the nicest cloths that we had. We drank high tea and ate a countless amount of cakes, pies, salmon fillets, puddings and other kinds of rich treats that would make anyone feel like royalty. We stuffed our faces and stomachs. Satisfied and convinced that diabetes was on the horizon for us all, we walked around and saw many different animals walking freely around the resort that included monkeys, zebras and giraffes. It was a lovely evening to say the least full of conversation, pictures, exploring, relaxation and luxury I was not accustomed to.

We left Livingstone the following day and stayed in Lusaka for a night, and then headed for Eastern province - my home region. It was my birthday so we had a party at the Provincial house in Chipata with some of my closest friends in PC. We had a very enjoyable evening which included a beer pong tournament, singing, pictures, dancing and kind words from all my friends about their most memorable experience with me. Even though I've only known them a year, the list of good times and memories that we've had together is enough to convince one otherwise. Some of them had a hard time deciding which one they enjoyed the most. It was very flattering and heartfelt to hear such nice things from people I've known for only a short while. If one of you are reading this Blog I want to thank you again for your adulation.

We woke up hungover once again and hit the road. Up to a bush village called Mufuwe, but this time only a few hours away. We were planning on camping at a game park and going on a few safaris to see animals in their wild habitat. The facility was accommodating and relaxing. We had most of the campgrounds to ourselves which seemed ideal at first, but later seemed to be a blessing in disguise as the moneys in the immediate area now had only one group of campers to target. The game drives that we went on were very expensive yet entertaining and didn't disappoint. We went on one in the A.M. and one in the P.M.. We saw Leopards, lions, giraffes, buffalo, elephants, hyenas, hippos, crocs, Antelope (of many different species), eagles, porcupines and lots and lots of baboons. It was a pleasant drive and on both safaris we encountered pleasant weather and company.

We headed back after a few days to Chipata and then to my site. We said goodbye to Amanda and my sister and I headed to my village for a little brother-sister bonding time. The village took to her well, she didn't complain about the food, or the bathroom situation. She approved of my site and was fascinated about the differences in the way we each live at site in comparison. We camped in the nearby mountains where we nearly got caught in a thunderstorm and played jenga with my host family. My greatest regret regarding her visit is that she couldn't have stayed even a few more days in the village. Despite her brief time, she was able to get a good feel for what life there was like. 

We were approaching the final week of her vacation and it was time to venture up to Chipata one last time for my yearly meeting, thanksgiving, and costume party that we Zambian PCV's call provs. Provs is a semi mandatory meeting where all volunteers get together in the province and discuss PC issues and news. Its also a time to meet new volunteers, say goodbye to others and make merry at the Thanksgiving and the costume party. Our theme for our district specifically was 'scared straight' which entailed a costume of a prisoner nature. My sister and I were on the hunt for costumes and even went as far as visiting the Zambian prisons to ask about borrowing a real authentic jumpsuit. We were turned away, but only because our timing was off as the official in charge of authorizing such a request wasn't present. The rest of the day we scoured, hunted and bribed clothing store owners for specific articles we thought would be the most convincing. It was a bitter sweet day but ended up being more successful then we had thought. The party was fun, there were babies, lord of the rings characters, puns, prisoners and most importantly Carlsberg and rum. A memorable experience said best through an assortment of pictures taken by Maren herself.

The following day was Thanksgiving and a few of us partook in a friendly game of touch football. It was quite a battle but all entirely too much fun with perfect weather. Some of us had scrapped knees, some of us scrapped egos, but in the end we shook hands, had a beer at the nearest bar, then retreated back home for the Thanksgiving feast. We dressed in our finest, drank, made merry and stated what we were most thankful for. My sister and I both submitting comments about how thankful we were to have each other during this special holiday event. It was a sentimental heartfelt confession that made every volunteer in the room envious and miss there own siblings back home.

When provs finally came to an end, my sister had made a deep mark on the hearts of all Eastern Province volunteers - both with her skillful photography skills and compatible personality that so many bonded with and adored. Many people approached me and voiced how much they enjoyed her presence and how they didn't want her to go back to Paraguay. Plans were even discussed about a heist in getting her to stay. Even she seemed a bit sad she was saying her goodbyes so soon. 

We packed our bags one last time and headed for Lusaka. We got a last minute hitch towards the evening in the back of a Truck with a Indian Muslim who voiced his entire life story stop by stop until we reached Lusaka a little after midnight. Our last day in Lusaka was spent at a Saturday Dutch market eating good food, shopping for last minute gifts for her friends and family in Paraguay, and watching all the batman movies on the couch at a friends house. It was relieving to be a little lazy after so much travel. She would need it before her big venture back home.

When we woke up early the next morning and headed to the airport, we both reflected on some of the highlights of the adventure that we had just experienced. So many laughs, smiles and enjoyment was had and not a single thing went wrong. Our goodbyes were short and unemotional but sincere with nice things said by each of us to each of us. It was a real treat being able to see a family member and despite my initial feelings about not really minding if I do, or do not see any of my family during my service as I had felt when I first came to country, I realized I never knew how much I missed her(and others back home) until she was here. I have a renewed longing for all those back home now - friends and family alike. I never thought that I would miss my family so much, but because of seeing her, I now look forward to that trip back to the states to see friends and family in a less then years time more then ever. 

Halfway there

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." - JRR Tolken

With the arrival, and soon departure of October, I am proud to say that I have now been a resident in my village for over a year - and in Zambia for fifteen months. Scary to think back a year ago to what was going through my mind when I first arrived in this country. How all of my curiosities, anxieties and awes have now been converted into routine. A lot has changed since my early Zam-days, and I find myself being asked to host training events and site visits for the rookies that are just starting their two year journey in Zambia. The service of a volunteer is a short lived adventure that slips away sooner then one can envision.

My fish farming work has nearly completed its seasonal cycle as harvest occur and ponds begin to dry up. I had some good outcomes, bad outcomes, and some regretful outcomes. Frustrating experiences, successful experiences and tragic ones. But through all the gain and loss and through every trial and tribulation, I've learned a fair share of lessons, and nothing teaches you more thoroughly then personal experience -God does it teach you!. Some of my best fish ponds harvested 20 plus KG's of fish while some of my worst hardly did 2. If I had another 3 years in the village I feel that my progress in aiding development could be much more substantial and felt- but I only have 1. That 1 year is my second and final chance to do all I can to help the people of my village to learn and believe in fish farming as a reliable source of income generation. 

My secondary projects have been a good compliment to my fish farming work and a good reliever when I needed a change of atmosphere. One of the better things about this job is its variety and dynamic. One day i'm a fish farmer, and the next i'm a camp counselor. I've partaken in turkey rearing, compost teaching, village technology creation, AIDS education and youth development and all have gone well aside from some trouble with raising baby turkeys, but no where will you find a claim that I ever knew anything about turkeys to begin with. It has been a frustrating endeavor solely based on trial and error, with heavy emphasis on the error.

In my last year, I plan on doing it big. I've recently applied and been approved for a government grant that provides me with funding needed to teach farmers how to produce their own fish feed. One area of improvement that I've been interested in seeing develop is fish size. Remembering back to my days at San Diego Hydroponics when one of my duties was to manage and feed Tilapia, I recall some of the impressive lengths that the fish grew to and most was credited to consistent feeding. My farmers here don't do anything of the sort. Since our training a year ago, we were told to teach our farmers to fertilize their ponds with Nitrogen, Phosphorus and potassium ( manure, dead leaves and ash) on a daily/weekly basis. This in turn creates a plankton bloom which in turn accounts for 70% of the fish's diet, and that (we were also told) should be good enough. But I wanted to account for the remaining 30% and make a bigger more sell-able fish through supplemental fish feeding that farmers could produce themselves. Bigger fish equal more food and more money - as anyone can point out. After drafting and submitting the idea, the grant was approved and low and behold, I woke up one morning with 4,000 USD in my account - Whoa. Technically the grant doesn't commence until December but lots of preparations and leg work must be done before the majority of the mass purchasing can begin responsibly. There will be many sleepless nights lulling over details and logistics until it is finally said and done, and that won't be till August.

Other then stressing out about monitoring and ensuring that all the grant funds are being put to good use, I am also looking forward to this years camp ELITE. For those of you who may have missed that BLOG. Camp ELITE is a boys camp that teaches adolescence boys valuable life skills such as leadership, cooperation, and equality. Its just like summer camp back in the states - only shorter. This year I have taken on the role as program coordinator and am in charge of the camp scheduling and organization. A big job to say the least which will also be grant funded with many government organizations involved and community partners that will participate. Last year was a great first go and this year I hope will be even better. 

Aside from work, since I've been doing all too much of that lately, I plan on doing a better job with leisure activities this year. Thus far, I have taken essentially no vacation time since I've been here. Within country I've done a fair share of travel, but to neighboring countries, I've visited zero - aside from a brief entry into Zimbabwe. The majority of Volunteers that have only recently flown into country have been to more countries then me and I'm ashamed to tell others of how little I've ventured outside of Zambia. On the 'to do' list before this time next year: Malawi, Zanzibar(Tanzania) and Namibia - Mt. Kilimanjaro would be nice also, but I'm not holding my breath. 

Only a week ago I said good bye to some really great volunteers who have just completed their 2 year service. Some were happy, others sad but they all shared one thing in common, and that was how baffled they were as to how abruptly their service came to an end. Many didn't even have a game plan for what they were going to do when they got back home. This next year, I look forward to lots of work, fun and improvements from the last, but it will also bring thoughts of what life after peace corps will entail. Its very likely that an extension job here will lure me to stay another year. Perhaps in the village, or perhaps in another position in the capital. Only time will tell which road I will choose. And then there is always that tempting opportunity to attend graduate school, especially as the US economy continues to struggle. One things for sure - Peace Corps has offered me many new opportunities. Many more then what was available to me only a year ago. 

As November approaches with the coming of my 30th birthday, so does a visit from my sister. It will be the first time I've seen her in 15 months and it will be intriguing to see how each of us has been effected by our services. She too is a Peace Corps volunteer in South America (Paraguay) and serves at a post that is much different from the rural bush of Zambia with far more amenities that I lack. I have faith that she will enjoy herself and adapt, but am eager to break her into the hard ways of Zambian life - the 'Real Peace Corps' as its been named here. She will no doubt go through many of the same surprises and shocks that I had once experienced and just acknowledging her unfamiliarity to my acceptance of everyday life will do well in helping me see how far along I've actually come in my year stint here. I look forward to her visit.

Well, right now, i'm fortunate enough to be laying in an air conditioned room in the capital preparing late at night for my mid service interview tomorrow with some of the higher ups of Peace Corps who are in charge of monitoring and evaluating our progress (my boss). Its an exciting time where we see all the other volunteers we came into country with, see how we've all changed and managed, share stories and plan for the upcoming year. I'm putting in an effort to really take in this midway mark as I've been told that from here on out, time begins to accelerate even faster. I can only hope the opposite as I dread the day when I will finally have to leave this country for good. But in the meantime - Bring on the next chapter. 

Camp GLOW

I think the girl who is able to earn her own living and pay her own way should be as happy as anybody on earth. The sense of independence and security is very sweet. - Susan B Anthony.

Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a week long girls empowerment camp which aims to educate women with knowledge, skills and understanding about how to better their lives. Topics range from HIV/AIDS awareness/prevention, malaria awareness/prevention, family planning, female anatomy, birth control methods, women's rights, assertiveness, leadership, goal setting, future planning, healthy relationships, and cultural understanding. We administer material both in a class room setting, with guest speakers and through games, sports and fun activities - all while having fun.


Zambia is a country that has lots of room for improvement, but one thing that stands in its way with glaring impediment is the way women are suppressed. Due to rigid gender roles and traditions, women are constantly being overshadowed and screened from their potential by men and ingrained traditions. This isn't just relevant here in Zambia but in virtually all countries of Africa. Camp GLOW aims to shatter this norm by teaching and motivating ladies into pursuing a successful future and living a healthy life through their own accord.


The camps organization and management is led by volunteers and funded by US government grants. About ten of us (sorry if I missed you) were all responsible for a presentation and related activities to complement GLOW material. Most of us mixed our presentations up with with a combination of lectures, games and hands on activities like: bead making, sports, talents shows, dances, Olympics and art work. I was responsible for leadership, assertiveness and sports. For leadership- I demonstrated my acting skills with some lecture material. It was a popular presentation to say the least. I was happy with the feedback. For assertiveness- I had a little more difficulty as the material was a bit more obscure, but I arrived at the idea of having them take on the role of presenting skits regarding demonstrating assertiveness in dangerous situations. There acting was entertaining, creative, relevant and most importantly, they had fun with it. Finally with sports we played indoor soccer and netball which the girls thoroughly enjoyed. And of course, I couldn't resist exhibiting my talent skills in a grand finale skit during the talent show. Its not in my nature to be shy when it comes to being humorous in front of crowds. Needless to say we all laughed, performed with passion, and learned lots throughout.

Similar to Camp ELITE, the camp did well in bringing me back to the days of my youth when I was in camp; engaging in similar activities and learning similar life skills. What appeals to me most about these camps is that I can get a real feeling that I'm giving back to the same education that I learned and participated in as a kid. Camps do well in teaching kids many important lessons that aren't absorbed well enough in a school setting. Just seeing these girls change and grow in the course of one week did well in fulfilling that desire to pass it on. Its really amazing how the dynamic of relationships morph from the time when camp starts when everyone is nervous and apprehensive to the time when its over and people get emotional about leaving one another. It does well in making a mentor (or us in this case) feel accomplished as to a job well done.

Though the camp in actuality is just a drop in the bucket in solving the problem of gender inequality, it educates a generation that one can only hope will be impactful later down the line. Weather it be preventing a pregnancy, a rape, or the contraction of HIV. Or maybe towards helping these women achieve goals that are beyond the confines of village life- beyond a destiny of being attached to kitchens, expected of to clean and raise children as a sole responsibility. We want them to understand that they have the power to make their lives so much more.


Nelson Mandela and the rest of the 'Great World Elder Group' (Independent global leaders working together for peace and human rights) claimed that without gender equality in a nation, development can not progress. It is absolutely crucial for developing countries to recognize women as a force in development. Camp GLOW is an action plan preached to these girls to help enlighten them about their potential. Once they awaken from their traditional enslavement mindsets that encapsulate them to a simple life of limitations, they can empower themselves and others in their villages.

When the camp finally came to a close and we all had our reflections about what we learned and how we may implement what we learned, I was pleased to learn that the girls I selected informed me of their ambitions and enthusiasm about starting a camp of their own back in the village. At that very moment, I couldn't help but smile and say to myself as I do every now and then during my service " Damn. I love my job."..Winning.

Quick 'n Dirty

“So see every opportunity as golden, and keep your eyes on the prize - yours, not anybody else's. ” - Roberta Flack


It hardly seems that a year in country has already come and gone. If things weren't going as well, and I was struggling to find productive things to do with myself, I would be complaining about the way these two years have been dragging, but i'm not; time is flying by. Faster then any two year stint of my life.

To try and streamline my Blogs, I've decided to shorten things up a bit so they are more reader friendly. You don't have to comment, but I know some of my blogs have been a bit on the rambling side, and no one cares to read about a bunch of thoughts that digress in every which way (except for maybe you mom). That's why I've decided to give a 'quick and dirty' account of whats been going on the last few months as I have been without a blog update for some time.


Things have been busy- Solely because I have chosen to be proactive with my time. If you want to do nothing, there is no one to stop you from laying in bed all day and reading - however, I have chosen the latter because staying busy does a lot for my morale. Since this upcoming fish farming season will be my last full season that I will see all the way through, I've taken it upon myself to seek challenging goals. Ones that will make me proud to look back without any feelings of regret. I've decided to to work with 8 villages in fish farming this year, shattering my last years projection of 3. Instead of concentrating my efforts in near by villages, I wish to spread out. I've held about 5 meetings to date with 2 more to go. Meeting turn-out is pretty good, villagers show up most of the time and are courteous enough to hear me out to the end without retreating back to their huts. Occasionally a village will flake out, in which case I do well in not letting it frustrate me and move on.

Outside of fish farming I'm now engaged in a few particularly exciting programs that I hope to keep up until the end of service, one worth mentioning is 'Grass Roots soccer'. Its a program that teaches young mature adults HIV/AIDS prevention and healthy life skills/decisions through soccer. It has been a pleasure to teach this program. The kids show great enthusiasm, participate adequately and even myself look forward to the practices that occur twice a week. Its a program that really makes me feel like i'm making a difference in the lives of others. I plan on expanding the program to other schools at the start of next term. It has been the most effective means of teaching about HIV/AIDS I have come across. And it could possibly amount to an opportunity of extending my service.

Camp GLOW is also just around the corner which begins in August. Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a sister program to camp Elite. Same concept yet the make up is all women. The aim is to teach about empowerment, early pregnancy prevention, assertiveness and encourage women's independence in their lives. The topics are much more serious then ELITE and it aims to make a greater impact on the participants after the camp concludes. If all goes to plan, they take what they learn from the camp and channel it back to the village by making a club to help teach the same concepts to others afterwards. These camps have been some of the best projects I've taken part in and I look forward to seeing how well the program does for the two candidates I select from my village.

The wildlife population in my life has also grown in recent months. Lily my village dog had 5 puppies. Two I was able to give away to other volunteers, but the other 3 remain in my care: Rocky, Jockmoe and Siley. I initially only wanted 2, but my lack of finding trustworthy, responsible owners and the growing attachment to them has now convinced me to keep the pack. Though they chew up everything in site, irritate the neighbors because of their tendency to bring their belonging into my yard and destroy, and general pain in the ass behavior does drive me up the wall from time to time, their cute faces and loving companionship is enough to make them my own. My cat Willie is still a greater problem. She is sneaky, insatiable and doesn't quite catch her share of mice to make up for all her unfavorable behavior, but the same feelings go for her as I have for the young pups. I fear that she too will have young just as Lily has, in which case, I may have to undergo therapy. My turkeys are still internally well, though recently the male had a skirmish with the female and damaged her right eye. It's practically gouged out and I haven't been successful in finding a local surgeon to repair and treat the wound. Her appearance is ghastly and pirate like. Any attractiveness that she may have had as a turkey has certainly been compromised. I hope it doesn't become infected.

Outside of work and village life, my girlfriend(Amanda) and I recently took a trip down to the Southern province of Zambia to see 'Victoria Falls'. One of the seven wonders of the world. It was a beautiful site. A massive canyon with an impressive line of waterfalls all flowing into the Zambezi river. Amanda took part in a full marathon around the falls on the Zimbabwe side. It was my first time encountering marathon atmosphere. It was inspiring to see so many people take on the challenge of trying to cover over 26 miles in a foot race. I was very proud of all the contestants performances, especially hers and it was fun to support the impressive feat. We had High tea at a charming and lavish resort where we ate tarts and cakes until we could take no more. We saw monkeys, zebras, impala, elephants and giraffes. We were even attacked by a baboon that I'll admit, I underestimated a bit. Some words of advice from a first had victim; that being my girlfriend and myself: Don't eat anywhere near a hungry baboon. He will smell it, and he wont stop until he has whatever you have. They are relentless. Never the less, no one was physically harmed or injured and it made for a humorous memory.

On a deeper level, aside from places I've been and things I've encountered, it seems that the year mark in country has also influenced others behaviors about being here. Some attitudes and motivation among some of my other volunteers have began to show changes. One year in a country that doesn't quite feel like home can do a lot. The original spunk and charisma that some held upon first coming has seemed to diminish. The thrill is gone among them and all that's left is the anxiousness of the next step in their future after Peace Corps. I hold no blame or judgement in light of these developing changes in attitude. Sometimes it takes a great deal of time to learn what is and isn't a true passion for oneself. Many volunteers speak of going to school or getting a job, they speak of the independence of driving and earning a paycheck, and we all share fantasies of foods that we will indulge in within the first few days of our arrival back home. Though my colleagues long of home and the life they once had, which is understandable, I can't help feeling a bit upset by their loss of drive in the work that they are doing. Instead of wanting to help, some are looking to finish, instead of living in the moment, they're eyes are toward whats ahead. In some ways, I feel a kind of a branching apart from some of these individuals in certain ways as I still feel charged and passionate about being here the same as I did the day I arrived.

Know that things are well and my spirits are high. I'm looking forward to being a trainer for upcoming intakes that will some day replace me. I wish to spread positive vibes and passion about what it is to be a motivated PCV. The next year holds a lot of assignments and projects for me that I look forward to carrying out. I still wish to see other neighboring countries in the region including: Malawi, Namibia, Tanzania and Uganda. There is much to do and much to see in the one year that remains that will no doubt pass by fast. I look forward to seeing you all, but wish to savor the little time here that remains. Nothing has changed in what I wish to accomplish since coming to country other then a clearer vision of how I can achieve my goals. I miss you all and can't wait to share my stories with you in person over a beer or good food. One year down, one to go.

Chataika Cup ll - Revamped

“At the end of the day people won’t remember what you said or did, they will remember how you made them feel.” - Maya Angelou



As PCV's our service here is a short and fleeting one. When we first arrive, we are faced with rigorous, monotonous training courses both linguistically and technically that make our two year service ahead seem like an eternity to overcome. But as time passes, and we begin to develop in our respected lines of work, the feeling of the original eternity that we had felt begins to seem more like a sunset winding down over the horizon. Our jobs as we have chosen to accept, is to assimilate, train and eventually work ourselves out of a job, ideally leaving our skills and knowledge with those with whom we work. We aim to inspire others to pass on what they have learned to future generations furthering development. In all cases, this is a milestone; in Zambia, America, anywhere in the world and in every culture. The goal to life is to acquire knowledge, and pass it on to later generations. Weather we learn as students, or successfully teach as teachers. It is a lifelong process, but here in Peace Corps, we attempt this in a condensed express version. The result; a deceivingly short 2 year period of immeasurable development and growth both by the people we work with and within ourselves.

Only recently has the moment of reflection finally occurred to me as to what I've accomplished thus far in my service. Though it is a difficult concept for me to grasp, I am only weeks away from my one year mark of being in country. There have been many stories that I can remissness upon that have made me proud and thankful for making the decision of getting on that International plane flight just over 11 months ago leaving my home, country and friends behind. What was once a roll of the dice gamble has now become my greatest and most meaningful line of work. Though the wide scope of success stories that warrants this feeling of success is ultimately measured in its entirety, there are only a handful of stories that will remain with me long after my service ends.


My last blog centered around a memorable experience in which a village friend had approached me with an idea to organize a soccer tournament within, and involving other neighboring villages. We had only recently completed a boys empowerment camp which taught young men about leadership, teamwork and cooperation so they could take these skills back to the village and apply them to appropriate situations. My village friend, Joe, is one of my counterparts and I invited him along to camp to help facilitate. He had done an excellent job in assisting other volunteers and myself with translation, as a positive role model and active participant. Later on after returning to the village, he had proposed this village soccer tournament idea and we ended up turning it into a reality. I was taken aback on how he was able to exercise and recite so much of what we had taught at the camp to other villagers. He was putting in a valiant effort in trying to teach others what he had learned and the tournament had been a huge success as it was the first major organized sporting event that the village had ever hosted or taken part in.


Weeks after the tournament, I had some business to take part in outside of the village for a few days. I left Joe in charge of watching my house, feeding my turkeys, puppies, dogs and cat. When I had returned to my village, I found a rather neglected home situation. My turkeys seemed in poor health as the female had extensive feather loss - possibly due to the lack of water and food in their feeder/dish. The cat was no where to be found and my puppies also had no water, which lead me to believe they also had no food in my absence. Confused, I awaited Joe to return. The following day he was again nowhere to be found, which reinforced my theories. He finally showed up the next day and what I found was a completely different and off-beat Joe. Despite his face being covered with mysterious sores, Joe seemed like he was high on drugs or drunk or both. He was rambling about all sorts of random topics, not making sense and speaking non-stop not letting me get in a word or retort. I asked him questions about weather or not he had been feeding my animals, and weather or not he had been watching my house in my absence. He failed to make logical sense in any of his responses. Frustrated I dismissed him, thinking that the following day he would come to his senses. I was wrong. The following day the behavior had persisted, perhaps even had increased in severity. He forced his way into my hut insisting that I loan him personal objects of mine like my sunglasses, clothing and he even pocketed a harmonica of mine without my consent. To top things off he managed to commandeer my bicycle while my back was turned to go run an errand and was gone for several hours. When he returned, I put my foot down in anger. It was the first time I had to raise my voice and get confrontational with anyone in the village. I asked him if he was on drugs, if he knew of the why he was acting and why. To all the questions, he gave indirect answers, lies and denials. I was worried when he left that it could potentially be something worse then drugs.

In the next few days I had spoken with my other counterpart who offered his own theories about Joe's condition. Marijuana and chewing tobacco was his answer. He claimed that Joe had recently been hanging around the wrong crowd and just taken up the habit and obviously wasn't reacting to it well. We both confronted him about it in the days that followed but the reaction we got was just even more dodging and withdrawn. With Joe's odd behavior remaining, and myself not being the only one concerned, he was finally strong armed into going to the local health clinic to get evaluated by other friends and family. From there, he was sent an hour away to St. Francis to undergo further evaluation. Something was definitely wrong.


In the few days that Joe was gone, I could only speculate as to what he was suffering from. Different mental conditions, perhaps he injured his head, I had even went as far as to accept cerebral malaria as a possibility. My other counterpart had ventured up too the hospital a few days later to check on him and reported that Joe's condition hadn't improved and he was in fact singing and dancing in a strange drunk like fit when he went to visit. The hospital was running blood tests and weren't sure when they would be able to release him.

Joe - top left
Zambian Government Parliamentary member - bottom right

Some time had passed and Joe finally returned from the hospital. Though he wasn't displaying such odd behavior as before, it was obvious his recent stint had left him a little exhausted and depleted, both mentally and physically. His sores didn't quite look as bad, but he was mentally slow similar to the behavior a recovering junky might exhibit. Many programs that I had planned to have him involved in I had to cancel and I was unsure if I could use him any further as a reliable counterpart. When I asked him about the whole fiasco he was still very unsettling about it, not wanting to admit or say what had landed him in St. Francis hospital for so long. It wasn't until weeks later when he had finally fully recovered that he admitted he had been smoking marijuana.


I left the village again on business of a different nature for a week. This time I had my other counterpart in charge of taking care of my hut and animals while I was away. I returned with great relief. This time to a hut of healthy animals and full water and food dishes. Early the following morning I awoke to the sound of a whistle blowing which signified the summoning of the village soccer team to training. I was confused because normally they didn't train in the mornings, only the evenings. Later on during the day, during the usual time that the team does hold their training sessions I noticed an unusually large gathering of people near the soccer field. A quite unusually large gathering. I decided to investigate.


What I found amazed me. There were people from all sorts of different villages awaiting a soccer match between 2 villages that were about 10km away. On top of that there was another game immediately proceeding and another one after that. Three games on a weekday was unheard of. On top it all, the village that it was being played in wasn't even playing in it. I felt out of the loop. While I was standing there, in utter disarray, Joe had found me. I noticed Joe's sores were subsiding, he seemed cognitive and aware, not the dull spaced out version that I had been experiencing the past few weeks, and he was able to hold his old astute conversations with me. Joe seemed back to normal.

When I asked him what was the reason behind so many people being in the village, and about the upcoming soccer game he told me that it was all his own doing. In my absence, he had organized and mobilized a much bigger, and better tournament then the one we had originally executed. There were 14 teams involved, trumping our first tournament which only had 4, and he had contacted members of the Zambian Parliament to sponsor by providing prizes for the champions and runners up. They had also promised to come on the day of the championship to present the prizes personally. There was a planned out tournament schedule, organized referee coordination and entire board of members responsible for the tournament. And the Zambian government was sponsoring it. In short, it was an amazingly well organized tournament. I was thunderstruck at what I had just been told. In the short week that I had been away, Joe had organized and mobilized 14 villages into an organized tournament. Everything was thought through and he had done it all himself without my supervision. Not even two weeks prior had he been in the hospital because of an overindulgence in a substance that had thrown his whole world into a downward spiral. Then low and behold he made a 180 degree rebound and took charge in a village tournament so much more grand then the one we had organized together just weeks prior. I was nearly in tears. Happy, proud, astonished tears.


The tournament would go on to be a week long with multiple games everyday. The entire village and those from miles around would all flock to my village in the evening to gather round and watch their village participate attracting people who would also sell goods giving opportunity for people to make money. It was a festival setting and a great event to bring positive publicity to the community and the whole thing was done without my knowing and participation. I had worked myself out of a job successfully and the village loved it.

Champions: Chataika; N'chtanji

It will be challenging to measure the impact of all the assignments and jobs that I will have had my hand in when I eventually conclude my service. Some impacts more obvious then others. But its instances likes these, the ones that take you by surprise that bring the biggest smile and remind me why I'm living the life of a volunteer here in a third world country half way around the world. When I look back on this experience years from now, its moments such as this one that I want to have surface in my memory. I think what makes this story especially noteworthy is not only the continuation upon the foundation I laid with starting the tournament, but Joe's ability to overcome. We've all made poor decisions in our lives, ones that have escorted us down dark paths, some of us continue on, but if we're lucky we are able to find our way back to more meaningful avenues. I'm amazed on how well and fast Joe was able to correct his mistake and change things in his life and community for the better. Sometimes its the way we rebound from the speed bumps that define who we are.

Chataika Cup

A preacher was standing in the middle of a field during a serious rainstorm. Two men walked by and acknowledged the preacher "preacher preacher, come with us and get to higher ground, the fields are flooding." The preacher looked at them with a face of certainty. "Don't worry my brothers. I have been a faithful man all my life, god will protect me." The two men looked at each other and walked off. A few hours later the water had risen up to the preacher's waist. Again the men came by, but this time in a boat. "Preacher, Preacher the waters are rising fast, please come aboard with us so we can get you to safety." But again the preacher told them, "Its ok, god is with me, he will protect me." A few more hours had passed and now the water had risen up to the preachers chin. Again the two men came by in the boat. "Preacher, preacher, we are begging you, please come with us, this could be your last chance." But being stubborn, the preacher said once again "Its ok my son, my faith is great, god will protect me from harm." The preacher drowns and dies in the storm and goes to heaven. He's standing there in front of god and he asks "God, I've been faithful to you all my life. Done all of your bidding and lived a life completely devoted to you. Why did you not protect me out there in the mist of that rainstorm and save my life." - And god replies "Mother fucker I sent you two boats!" - the moral of the story is: When opportunities present themselves recognize and take them..

On just another ordinary day, towards the evening time, whilst I was cooking dinner, I had my good friend in the village, Joe, come over for a visit as he normally tends to do. Joe is a young chap who is one of the few villagers who had the motivation and opportunity to make it all the way through high school and finish with good marks. He is also one of the only villagers who speaks English beyond the capacity of a child, so him and myself can communicate beyond that of cavemen banter. We have been friends since the beginning of my stay. He comes to visit often and we chat about various topics that interest us both. He was also the counterpart I choose to accompany me to Camp Elite (see previous blog). There he did a wonderful job at performing translations and bridging the communication gap between volunteers and the kids. Joe is a great friend to have in the village.

That evening when Joe came over, he came with an idea he wanted to discuss. Joe proposed that him and myself organize a village soccer tournament, as the end of maize season was approaching and villagers were finding more and more free time on their hands then they knew what to do with. And when villagers find too much free time on their hands, a common tendency is to spend it drinking and wasting away. At first I was a bit apprehensive to the idea. After all, I was a fish farmer, and a soccer tournament hardly seemed like an appropriate secondary project to devote so much time and energy towards. We discussed the issue over dinner and we eventually overruled my previous notion.


Recreation is not an issue to be taken lightly. It can be the difference between a healthy lifestyle, and an unhealthy one, and it is especially the case here in Zambia. The majority of all villagers everywhere in the rural setting are farmers; well over 90%. These farmers are, for the most part, especially the older generation - uneducated. They have devoted their lives to growing maize through the months of January to May as maize fetches the largest payoff at harvest. As for all other months, a small amount grow various vegetables, and I'm working in getting a trend for fish farming started, but the majority pretty much do nothing in this off season. If you're not on the soccer team, or not watching a match, you're probably drinking. Unfortunately most devote their off time to drinking either the village brew 'chimbuku', which is a maize based type of beer, or a more dangerous homemade spirit that can cause serious health issues called 'cuchasu'. Organizing a village soccer tournament wouldn't completely avert this negative village habit, but I had hopes that it would potentially get people out of the bar and onto the village soccer pitch either to play or spectate as a community.


Because I was unsure as to how this tournament would play out, and because I had just began to start fish farming meetings on pond construction in near by villages, I wasn't to thrilled on making a long, drawn out tournament. The format that fit my schedule best would be a single elimination, one weekend, three day tournament. Teams would register with a moderately low join in fee and we (Joe and myself) would purchase appealing prizes for first and second place winners, which included a soccer ball and team jerseys.

We held a meeting about a week before our projected first tournament game to see if we would have enough interest to commence. The meeting easily had 80 people attend, and more ended up showing up as the meeting progressed. People came from villages near and far to here about this new and first time thing called a tournament. Prior, villages would just arrange single match games against one another, once every few weeks, and have an equally agreed upon wager put up by both teams for the winner. There was no league, keeping track of win and loss records, or stats of any kind recorded let alone something as complex as a tournament that had ever taken place. At the meetings conclusion, people seemed to be very entertained by the idea and I invited coaches to register by submitting a joining fee and a team rooster so we could verify no players playing on multiple teams. I wanted to do this tournament as official as possible so the teams felt a sense of pride and seriousness towards the game.


When the last day of registration approached, we found that only four teams total had registered. Thrown off by this low turn out, I called a coaches meeting with the teams that registered to find out why so many failed to follow through with their original enthusiasm from the first held meeting. I had shown the teams on a chalk board the tournament outline and how it would work with a confirmation from everyone in attendance that they had understood what I was proposing and would register; we should have had at least 10 teams. It turned out that the teams were hesitant about the single elimination aspect of the tournament. Paying the join in fee and only being guaranteed one game frightened many teams away from following through with their initial inclination. We remedied some of these discrepancies and decided that in the following few months we would hold another tournament that would last two weekends long, instead of one, and have it take into consideration some of the apprehensions that many of the teams that didn't register had, specifically, to have it be a double elimination tournament.


Never the less, the show must go on as they say, and we still had four teams that were registered and interested in partaking in the initial tournament proposal. We remade the tournament and changed the prizes. We decided that this first tournament would simply be a trial and decided to make every team get some kind of consolation for being involved; First place would be 50K, second, 40k, third, 30k, and fourth 20k (k=kwacha; 5 kwacha = 1USD). So on the eve of the tournament's first game, we revamped the entire organization of the tournament to satisfy all teams. The first day we were to have 2 games; the second day 1 between the losers of the first day as consultation for 3rd and 4th place; and the last day was the championship between the winners of the first day. In every project in peace corps, adaptability is a must.

I was under the impression that the news of the tournament would attract quite a few villages nearby. A few hundred perhaps. But what I wasn't prepared for was the massive throng of fans that had flocked to witness the next days events. Literally THOUSANDS of people had come to watch. There were vehicles that had come from 20+ km away. So many people were in attendance that you would have thought there was a Red Hot Chili Pepper concert going down. We could have used a crowd control squad, a loud speaker with an announcer and a stadium with the amount of spectators present. This small tournament trial run had turned into a village festival that attracted much more of a crowd then I could have ever imagined. Villagers were selling their harvested goods, singing, dancing, laughing, smiling and anxious to see how the upcoming games would unfold, eager for their team to succeed to the championship game for bragging rights and pride. I felt like I was in over my head. I had created a monster of an event.


On top of organizing, I had also agreed to officiate. The pressure felt was nothing to shake a stick at. This was practically a stadium crowd that took their soccer incredibly serious and one poor call could, I feared, surmount into a full fledged riot. And to make things even more interesting, I had suffered food poisoning the night before. Pressure was coming at me from all angles in all forms. All of which were unpleasant.


I had two volunteer linesman who helped out with the refereeing. They helped me chalk the field (with white sand found near by) and make calls, but both hardly felt confident enough to be center referee. I decided to officiate both games as center ref on the first day. I met with each team to check in each players, and then held a coin toss in the center to follow proper officiating procedure. We were about to be under way in the first EVER tournament in my village or anywhere near it. The Chataika Cup 2013.

The first game was between a near by village called Chimbeso and an even closer village called Mastala. The game was heated, both teams were evenly matched and it was quite physical. To digress a tad, let it be known that I also decided to incorporate cards in this tournament. Prior, every game was played without cards (yellow or red) so no team ever held back on the degree of aggressiveness that they administered in their tackles. I felt this to be serious problem and therefore decided to incorporate cards into the game for the safety of the players and quality of the the game. Why they choose not to use them before, I can't say, but I felt that it was essential to keeping the game fair. I Issued many yellow cards that first game and called several penalty kicks as both teams did a fair share of poor tackles inside of the goalie box. They weren't use to my strictness of my refereeing and it took sometime for them to adjust. The final score was five five and the game came down to a shoot out where Chimbeso won by a goal. It was soccer drama at its finest.


The first game seemed the most intense. Perhaps because it was the first game I had refereed in quite some time and teams were adjusting to my style of officiating. After also refereeing the second game (which I felt much more comfortable with), I felt that I should relinquish the center referee position to the other sidelined referees, not because I wasn't comfortable or confident, but because I wanted them to find confidence in being a center referee and I do believe that there should be a rotation in officiating. I believe that my service is about sustainability and I'm here to teach people how to do things, not to do it for them. I show them the way, they walk through the door. For the two next games on the following days, I insisted that my linesmen find the courage and take the center referee position for one game each. Both were bashful and lacked confidence and I knew they would need a little support and words of encouragement to get the job done. One of the linesmen was young (around 20) and was unsure of himself, while the other was quite and not as commanding as one should be as a center referee.


We had a referee meeting that night before the next days second leg of the tournament. I discussed with them my theories of what it takes to be a center referee; Confidence, mobility, and the ability to conference with the linesman when a call was not seen or difficult to make. I told them that as referees, they were a team and they were in it together. They should use each other and communicate often to always do their best in making the right call. But if a wrong call was made, not to loose face and resort to shame. Bad calls were part of the game and teams, coaches and players had to learn that. That night I restored some confidence in these two amateur referees and they agreed to each referee the rest of the games from there on.


The following day was another close match followed by an epic championship game on Sunday. Both referees had taken their share of verbal abuse from fans, players and coaches but had officiated reasonably well with only a few questionable calls. I was proud that they held their ground even when they had heated protesting and name calling directed towards them. The final game was a 1-0 victory for Chataika over chimbeso with a memorable celebration on the field of singing, dancing and for some crying, both tears of joy and disappointment.

At the end of the the championship game we held a ceremony in which the referees were thanked along with the teams and coaches for registering and taking part in the first ever village tournament. I was then forced into a speech among the massive crowd in which I thanked everyone for participating and asked them how they enjoyed the event. The response was unanimous I received perhaps the largest thanks and round of applause I had ever had in my life. For all the nonsense that I had to deal with in that tournament: the unbearable task of controlling such a large crowd, dealing with so many individuals who decided to make much of the tournament affairs their business the drama with the referees, coaches, players, drunk fans, people not showing up on time and the fact that I had to referee with food poisoning - that round of applause and thanks made it all worth while. Joe and myself had succeeded in turning just a whim of an idea into a full fledged village event that had attracted so many. It was easily the most successful - in terms of grad scale popularity - side project I had completed to date.


Being that the tournament had been such a success, it has been scheduled that there will be one held every few months. My goal is to stay in the position as tournament organizer for a few more goes and eventually hand over the reins to the villagers themselves so they can keep these tournaments alive and going long after I have left. There has been talk that after a few tournaments and after a good deal of stats have been recorded that the village would begin to build an All-star team out of all the teams that participate. That All-star team would then go on to perform in leagues at the next level; in markets and intercity leagues. Though I believe that the village league is far from establishing a worthy team as of yet, I do like that many are thinking ahead and of what opportunities the tournament can provide. There is no doubt that having these tournaments will raise the level of competition and quality of soccer in the village. Perhaps on some individual levels, it will provide grand opportunities for some to elevate to premier levels of the game. But for what its worth at this point, the community bonding and recreation is enough to fulfill my satisfaction.

To conclude, I feel that this tournament was beneficial to the community and myself on more levels then I can express. It provided villages with a sense of pride and entertainment, and hopefully initiated the idea of recreation at the grassroots level. I hope that it also will spark interest to start leagues with women and youth in the near future. As for myself, the next day as I was walking towards my market to pick out some vegetables and I had an unusually large amount of strangers greet me with a smile and handshake and to share how much they enjoyed the tournament. The amount of respect that I gained from that day has been tremendous, so much to the point that I can't recall the last time I have shaken so many hands in a single day. I look forward to our next village tournament and to keep the progress of improvement continuous. I am proud that the village has high aspirations for what the tournament can add to their lifestyle and will be proud to leave it behind when the day comes for me to depart.

Camp ELITE

"Teamwork makes the dream work." - CAMP ELITE MOTTO




Secondary projects are assignments in which dedicated and ambitious volunteers seek ways of helping their community aside from their primary duties to which they were specially trained. They can range drastically, from raising livestock, bee keeping, and even pottery. The list is only limited to the imagination of the volunteer and to the way it correlates with their communities needs. Since being in Zambia, I have sought out a wide variety of secondary projects in conjunction to my fish farming project. Some have shown great success, while others have either been difficult to start or unpopular among the masses. I've taken part in the spread of sweet potatoes by partnering up with a research facility whos goal is to spread the popularity among rural villages. I've started my own composting system in hopes that it will alleviate my communities dependency upon costly and environmentally harmful fertilizers, and have even participated on my village soccer team. I'll let you be the judge on weather or not that latter project is really much of a project.

With so many in secondary projects in progress and so many more planned and in the making, the diversity of my day to day duties is, in my opinion, what makes this job so rewarding. Not having the redundancy of a 9 to 5 with a boss nagging you every hour of the day for TPS reports or what not, setting your own schedule, and deciding who, if any, other volunteers you choose to work with and on what assignments. But out of all the secondary projects that I have thus far taken part in, none have, and I'll go as far as saying none will, be as enthralling and rewarding as my most recent secondary project- Camp Elite.


Camp Elite is a Peace Corps funded sports camp that came together only last year in Zambia. It was a guinea pig project in the North West province that proved successful and because of it, other provinces have followed up this year to seek the funding necessary to run their own camp in their own province. The camp aims to teach, empower and train young boys about successful life skills through sporting activities. In essence , it is an imitation of many of the summer and sports camps programs that are offered through so many youth development programs that most of us have gone through once or twice when our parents needed a place to dump us for the summer back in the states. Weather you're aware or oblivious, just being in an atmosphere of camp does well in giving out precious life experiences in teamwork, leadership, friendship and competitiveness. The goal is to bring kids together and send them off with an experience that will last a lifetime and in turn have them venture back to their own villages to teach and empower others in what they have learned.


As a youth, I happened to be one of these kids that was often dumped at camp as my parents were always less then thrilled at my desired plans for summer. Which mostly consisted of parking my ass in front of the television. Each summer, I was sent to camps such as: Cowboy camp, YMCA and even a Military camp, which would occupy my time and teach me much more then what I was aware of. Though not thrilled at the time, looking back, I now recognize the value that these programs had in giving me valuable life long skills.

I happened to be late in hearing about the entire ordeal, but with a combination of begging and sweet talk, I was able to secure one of the limited spots in the camp as funding is limited and so many were already interested. I promised an enthusiastic attitude and a creative mind to help with the camps planning. We held only 2 meetings before the camp would begin. We talked about making the camp balanced with fun activities but also educating lectures that the kids could take back to the village with them. We had about 13 volunteers and we worked it out so that each volunteer would be allowed to bring 2 kids and one counterpart to the camp. Kids and counter parts would have full accommodation taken care of, so we were told, including: meals, dormitory, showers and fun, which we would provide. The camp was to take place at a boarding school that was rumored to be well equipped for our needs and rather nice compared to Zambian standards.


The list of volunteers signed up for the camp could not have been any better. There were quite a lot of my favorites from my own intake involved, and some more experienced volunteers that had been here much longer then myself. Everyone had a positive attitude, creative mindset and well thought out vision for what the camp should entail. Each meeting would do well in bringing us closer to an idea as to how this camp would turn out. We decided that we'd randomly divide the kids into teams and place a few volunteers on each team to help with the enthusiasm Then we thought that each day we should hold a specific theme relevant to the material that we would be presenting. One day would be leadership, another would be teamwork and so on. We also had connections with guest speakers from the ministry of health and other government organizations that agreed to venture out and perform presentations about their specialized material. Male circumcision, malaria and HIV prevention, safe and healthy relationships and equality were only some of the topics that were presented.


Our list of activities and sporting events were extensive. We played games and variations of soccer, kickball, capture the flag, futsol, basketball volley ball, dodge ball, jeopardy and even a relay race on the last day. We had a solid outline for how the camp was going to go and we all shared enthusiastic anticipation for the camp's date to arrive.

Now to digress a bit and give you an idea as to how I decided to choose the children in my village for the event, I feel it necessary to explain to you the phenomena of 'village jealousy'. In the village, I am the only white man. And being the only white man, to other Zambians means by default that I am rich. When other villagers see me corresponding with other villagers, they tend to get jealous and envious and false accusations have a tendency to develop . While on the surface this seems petty, it has a tendency to lead to rather drastic and dramatic issues. The best example of this in my situation is that a few months ago someone killed my counterparts turkey. Literally beat it to death. Nobody knows who did it, but the speculation that he is most certain of is due to his involvement with me. Other outcomes are villagers shunning other villagers, stealing and false rumors that I may have given them (the one I correspond with) money or gifts. Now because of this, I can't freely choose a child of my preference. Nor can I choose at random. So what I decided to initiate was an essay contest at the near by school.


I went to each classroom and described the camp in great detail and enthusiasm in order to spark motivation. When the deadline arrived, I had 17 essays to read. A decent turnout. Some where written in Nyanja, and some in English. My counterpart and I spent a late night together going over all of them until we felt confident about the two. And so concludes the deciding process. Two gentleman that I had choose winded up being from both of the village that I had done fish farming work in. I was pleased with my choices.


When the day finally came and we arrived at the camp, we didn't find all of our expectations and promises met. The day we arrived happened to be the same day as the last day of school for all the students at the school. The place was a madhouse and kids were everywhere. We convened in the autotorium and found a hoard of kids sitting on their luggage waiting to be picked up and taken home from their end of term at school. They occupied more then half or our promised space. On top of that, the dormitories were trashed, and the bathrooms and showers were a complete disgrace. Something had to be done.

Our two fearless leaders of the camp put forth valiant efforts to try and find the staff members responsible for the broken promises, but it seemed that nearly all the staff had already left for the end of term. Now in America, this sort of incident would most likely not have been encountered. Or if it was, someone would be getting chewed out, or perhaps fired. But it doesn't work the same way here in Zambia. Sometimes trying to find the ones responsible is much more difficult then what you'd think in theory - a phone call. Often times, threatening ultimatums don't surmount to much. Many people just don't care about what you are complaining about and it can sometimes be a difficult pill to swallow as so many of us in America are use to flawless customer service. Customer service is a imagined fantasy in many places here in Zambia.


After hours of getting the constant run around from subordinates and staff member's that didn't have answers for us we had to call a meeting with the volunteers. A bad meeting..


The meeting was a venting of frustration from those who were working at trying to get the problem resolved. It seemed nearly impossible to find the right people who had assured us that everything would be taken care of. The counterparts were terribly upset about the situation and were all on the bandwagon about going back home the next day. Things were looking very dismal, and the thought of sending everyone home because of the state of the facilities on the first day was terribly aggravating as we would all most likely loose respect in our villages for the broken promises we had made. Especially after putting so much hype and emphasis on how fun the camp would be. In the bleakest moment, when we were all about to give up hope and tell the kids to pack their things, we finally found someone with some substantial authority who actually cared. At this point it was already around eight o'clock. The counterparts were all in their dormitories bitter about the situation, and trying to sleep without any bedding or linen on dirty mattresses. I had sacrificed my own bedding and gave it to my counterpart as I had felt guilty enough that I had not been able to follow through with what I had promised. However the kids were having a very good time in the dormitory playing futsol and various other games not knowing the seriousness of the situation.


By the morning, the school finally took some action. They had janitors and cleaning services working diligently at trying to get the place presentable. We had a meeting right after breakfast with the counterparts and begged them to give the camp another shot. They agreed and the camp went from probable cancellation to back on schedule. But spirits were low.

That first full day was huge, and direly needed. Myself and another volunteer named Steve were assigned to present leadership to the kids and the hope was that we would change the attitude of the camp, and especially the counterparts. It couldn't have gone better. We started off with a well done leadership presentation on poster paper in which we received high participation and involvement. After that we proceeded to the soccer pitch where I showed everyone how to play a game that I had learned, and loved in cowboy camp called 'Fortress'.


Fortress is a simple game. There are two teams; one that huddles together on the ground by locking arms, and the other works at trying to break them apart in a certain allotted time by pulling at their arms and trying to find a weak spot. Though this may seem terribly rudimentary, It turned out to be one of the favorite games played throughout the entire camp. It was a perfect compliment to the leadership presentation as teams had to use many of the skills that we had presented in trying to break up the fortress. At first some of the tactics were ineffective, but about halfway through in the third game or so, the secret weapon was out that hit the Achilles of any fortress - tickling. All and all, it was a great time with laughs, smiles and some good old fashioned boys rough housing. It felt good to have such a swift turn of attitudes and enthusiasms in just a single day.


From there the pace was set. each day that followed was a fantastic build where kids did a substantial amount of learning followed by a enjoyable sport that always bordered better then the last. At night we played movies for the kids, but most of the time they were too tired to make it through the entire movie. This meant that we had done our jobs well. The point race between the teams was also close throughout the camp. It came down to the last day as any team would have the ability to win if they performed well. A grand finale of substantial proportions and the winning team would have their pick at the prizes first.


Before I knew it, the last day had come and I didn't have the slightest clue as to where the time had gone. On the last day we had scheduled a jeopardy quiz for the kids that would put what they learned to the test, followed by a relay race. My team, the orange crush, had been in second and third (out of 4 teams) the entire time. But on the last day, they had managed to win at jeopardy and the relay race, which vaulted them into the lead for the win. I had bonded exceptionally well all these kids and was very proud that despite how young they were compared to the other teams, they still managed to overcome.

When it was all said and done we gave out used soccer gear from a college donation to all the children and counterparts in the camp, and everyone walked away with something including a 'Camp Elite' tee shirt complete with the saying 'teamwork makes the dream work'.


My favorite part about the camp was the fact that we were able to exercise many of the skills that we had taught to the kids during the hick-ups that we encountered. Instead of giving up hope on the first day and calling it quits we exhausted every possible sources we could until we finally found someone who could help us. When the dodge balls (that I had made from trash and maize bags) had begun to fall apart after the first few games, we got the kids to all work together to mend them by tying them with ripped cloth and plastic, just as they make balls similar in the village. And on the last day, when the power went out before we were to have a talent show, we instead busted out glow sticks and had a dance party. Every time a problem arose, we worked against it and prevented it from bringing us down. We were creative, positive, capable of delegating tasks to remedy problems and determined to make things work. We practiced what we preached and in a camp of this nature, you really can't ask for much more.


When I returned to the village I ran into the headman of the school (the one who helped me initiate the essay contest) and one of the two boys. The boy, Paul, had spoken highly of how much fun and insightful the camp had been. He thoroughly enjoyed it and couldn't wait for it again next year (I couldn't break it to him that I would probably exclude him). The head man also thanked me and appreciated all that I had done for the kids. Everything from the first day forth from the camp had gone spectacular and I only hope that next year, when I'm in charge and running the camp,( as I already have taken on the role) it goes just as good as it did this time around.

I need to thank the two camp leaders Chris and Sam for doing such a wonderful job in all aspects from planning to funding. They did and amazing job with the camps first go round and most of next years model/scheduling will go off of this years. I also want to quickly thank everyone involved especially the PCV's. We had no disputes, worked together well, and weather we know it or not, we bonded because of our involvement. I made some very close friends during the entire stint and reinforced other close relationships I already had.


To conclude, and I know that this is already long enough, I just want to reiterated how much this camp meant to myself personally. As a kid I had always looked up to the camp counselor leader that I was under. Thinking how cool, smart and fun he was. I had always wanted to be one myself, and this camp was the first time that I was able to play that role (can only hope the kids thought of me as cool smart and fun). I can only hope that these kids have looked up to me as I did when I was in their shoes. Perhaps they won't have the opportunities as I have had with going to camp so frequently, but maybe it will encourage them to be a good role model to others when they get older. Thank you camp Elite. The most fun I've had yet here in Zambia.