An Update on Thankfulness

I have had the privilege of working with Mme. Thankful (the lady from an earlier post) this past week. She has been a joy to work with and even though she only speaks French, I have been making do with my kindergarten level language abilities to discover how truly thankful she is.

First, however, I must make a correction to what I wrote in an earlier post. Mme. Thankful is a Cameroonian woman who was married to a Senegalese Muslim, so she was also a practicing Muslim. Her sister died in childbirth 18 months ago, leaving behind a baby daughter with a serious breathing abnormality that resulted in Mme. Thankful taking the two month old to a major hospital in Yaoundé, Cameroon. During a two week stay at the hospital the bill amounted to more than 200.000 cfa (more than $400 USD, 5 times the average monthly salary). At the end of her two week stay the family’s money had run out and she was counseled to take the baby home and let her die. It was at this time that a family member of Mme. Thankful, who lived across the border from us in Cameroon, told her about the Gamboula Hospital. So Mme. Thankful brought her daughter, Happiness (no I am not making up the name) to our hospital where she was treated for three months. At the end of her stay she was overwhelmed with the generosity of Clarisse, the nutrition garden, the missionaries and staff, thus her desire to come back to Gamboula to help us. As a result of her stay here she became a Christian, and is about the most thankful mother I have ever witnessed. She adores her adopted baby and responds to her every cry.

She has been working in the garden all week and despite nearly stepping on a snake the other day, she has persevered and has left us with a tremendous gift to pass on to those needing the garden in the future. Mme. Thankful is also a seamstress and has been sewing for me in the afternoons. My brother, Remy, gave Clarisse and I some beautiful fabric as a souvenir of our visit to the diamond mine last week and Mme. Thankful has transformed it into a beautiful dress that I wore to church this morning. I have never received so many compliments before. While I wear pants and t-shirts all week it is fun to ‘dress-up’ on Sundays and be a little girlie. I will have to wear it one Sunday in Victoria.

The Diplomat

Last summer I spent a week in the capital, Bangui, working with Roy and Benoit to establish a National Non-Governmental Organization (NGO). The NGO, Centre for Experimentation and Formation in Agriculture (CEFA), will follow through with the original agroforestry work started by Roy ten years ago. CEFA will be working at three sites: an experimentation farm which will conduct small-scale trials in order to improve staple crop, vegetable and animal production in the region, a demonstration farm where successes from the experiment farm are demonstrated for the general public to visit, and, of course, the nutrition garden, whose program continues as usual, but now under the umbrella of CEFA. I have been working with Roy since the summer to establish the NGO’s statutes and regulations as well as work on funding proposals and strategy papers for how CEFA will go about its work of village extension and training. Since arriving in Gamboula I have been working on making some of our ideas operational, looking at staff needs and planning the year’s activities. We will be having our first board meeting on April 7 for which there is a lot to prepare and is one of the primary reasons for my visit.

As a board member I have also had to respond to official requests for help and liaise with the community. The other day CEFA received a letter from the Mayor’s office requesting that we pay a particular tax, but of course the request made no sense to me. Benoit and I drove down to the Mayor’s office after I got all dressed up in my most diplomatic office to discuss the tax. It was a very good meeting and I realized that this is the type of work I most love doing. Not that discussing and negotiating taxes is particularly fun, but I do like meeting with community officials and I think developing relationships is a large part of what we doing here. The government here is extremely corrupt, so working with officials is not always pleasant. Instead of fighting corruption, missionaries and NGOs have had a tendency to give in to it, which does not make changing the system any easier.

After visiting the Mayor’s office we drove over to the Catholic mission. We were looking for the Priest, but, as he was not in town, we were greeted by a wonderful Sister who invited us in for a cold drink. I thought, when she said cold drink, she meant water, but instead, she pulled out a large bottle that looked awfully like beer. She put two large glasses in front of us and proceeded to pour each of us a large glass of beer. Now, many of you know that I am not partial to beer, having never really gotten past the first sip. But I am also a hospitarian. By hospitarian I mean to say that I will eat, or at least try, anything that is served to me. So, bottoms up, I downed that beer, along with a banana for good measure and laughed to myself about the oddity of the situation. Here I was, in a nun’s house, drinking beer with my Central African boss who, as a Baptist, is not supposed to drink alcohol. I guess Benoit is as much a hospitarian as I am.

Adoption

I am adopted. I am the thirteenth child of Madelaine and Francois Nguebe, better known as Mama and Papa. I was visiting Mama the other day with a young missionary kid and introduced him to my mom. He gave us the most confused look. “But, but, but...” he said, looking at us, “that’s not true”. I suppose, in the flesh, it does look a bit impossible, with me a snow white Caucasian and the Nguebe’s as black as any Central African. But in spirit, I have become an Nguebe, the thirteenth, if somewhat pampered, child. As an adopted child I admit to having special privileges. When I first entered the family, five years ago now, I was chastened for sitting on a mat on the ground when a perfectly suitable chair had been hauled out of the house specifically for me to sit in. It used to be a big deal when I arrived in the afternoon to sit and visit, more along the lines of the patron coming to your house. Over the years though, the bond of adoption has strengthened. While I have yet to do dishes or make gozo for the family meal (the cassava staple), there being plenty of children and spare wives to do these tasks, likely better than me, I am slowly losing my place of privilege. While you may not think this worth rejoicing over, it is something I have sought after from the beginning. No more chairs of honour or friends addressing me as “Madame Darren”. Now, when I arrive, I am greeted with the same titles of respect that any other Nguebe would use for each other. I am “Angela”, “Mama”, “Aunty”, “my daughter” or “my sister” as the case allows. I have never been happier.

Five years since my adoption, I am sitting on a couch with Remy to my right and Clarisse across from me, watching French TV in the bar of GEM Diamonds-Likaya, an hour and a half from Berberati. Clarisse and I came to Berberati on vacation, two nights only, but it is a stretch given Clarisse’s responsibilities at the hospital and the kids-nieces, nephews and grandchild-we left crying at home on our way here. After spending the night at our sister Elise’s house, Remy, the firstborn and family patriarch came to pick us up this morning to take us to this Central African bush paradise.

Perhaps paradise is too strong a word, but since it closed operations it has become a very tranquil place to visit. It has more amenities than you could find anywhere in Berberati, the second largest city in the country. No outhouses in Likaya, just flush toilets, hot water showers, air conditioning and a second story bar overlooking the river. C’est tres bien!

It is hard, if not impossible to characterize a family, let alone a country. As far as the Nguebe’s are concerned, they are a Central African family that has been transformed by a living God. They are far from perfect. Between the twelve brothers and sisters (six of each sex) you can find any number of faults, but no more so than you would find amongst my dad’s own eleven siblings. However you break it down though, there exists something different among them. I have met them all and, while I know some better than others, generosity and perseverance are common characteristics.

In Memorium

A good friend died last night. Kylee died after giving birth to a
beautiful baby and my heart goes out to her family and friends around
the world. I have few words to express how I feel right now. I do feel
vulnerable. Our lives are so fragile. But we shouldn't protect
ourselves in a bubble, rather we should seize each moment and live
with the joy of being alive.

I will miss you Kylee.

Regarding the Uncelebrated Holiday....

I take it back, I did celebrate, I had to, I swear. We recieved a summons to the party at the residence of the sous-prefet (he is like the boss of several mayors in a district). When I say we, I mean Roy and Aleta as representativs of the agrilcuture work here. However, they have important visitors so they could not go. I went looking for the Central African head of the program, Benoit, but he had conveniently slipped away to his garden, not being one to celebrate the holiday either. So that left me. I figured it was duty to go, so I got dressed up in my finest, took the keys to the truck and headed to the party. On the way, I ran into Nadege and coaxed her into going with me. She got all fancied up and we sat amongst 60 or so other invitees to the party. Everyone else in attendance was either a local organzier of the President's political party, moslty women, or funcitonaries of the local government, from the mayor, the military, police, etc. We ate, we drank (pineapple pop for us, beer for everyone else) and took our leave after about 2 hours.

While it wasn't exactly fun, it wasn't torture either. I had a great time talking with Nadege and we laughed at the various people around us. I didn't have to pledge allegiance to CAR or anything like that but I didn't get to give any speeches either.

An uncelebrated holiday

Today is a holiday in CAR but I am not celebrating. Today marks the 2003 anniversary of the current president coming to power through a somewhat bloody coup d’etat. Not something I would think of celebrating myself. Condemn, yes. Celebrate, no. So while everyone else is downtown watching the parade and worried that if they don’t show up they will be considered as an opponent to the current regime, I am taking my chances at home. Besides, I can’t see much that the current regime has accomplished since seizing power in 2003, unless you count five rebellions, astonishingly high rates of malnutrition and displaced people as accomplishments.

On the upside, my surrogate family is well and sends their greetings. The children in school this year are doing well and Clarisse’s youngest has started junior high school. She walks nearly 8 kilometres a day going to and from school but she is excelling and for that I am grateful. The nutrition garden is living up to its name, helping hundreds over the past year alone and is full of green leafy vegetables at present. Yesterday I helped dig holes for planting tropical yam: A task made easier by a sudden burst of rain, marking the coming of the rainy season.

Friday I hope to make it to Berberati to visit the other half of my surrogate family and spend some time with Clarisse. The following week I will be hosting a former ECHO intern who will be spending two weeks with me to learn about grafting and nursery management in the Central African context before she goes to spend two years in Cameroon doing something similar to the agroforestry work we have been doing here. I am looking forward to her arrival as I love training and am excited that Richard, the grafter I trained several years back, will be able to take a training role as well. His grafting has come along well and he has done some interesting experiments.

Paying a debt of gratitude

I arrived in Gamboula on Monday night, after spending Sunday in Yaounde resting after a long two weeks in Uganda and Kenya. Translating is difficult and tiring, but it was rewarding to be able to open up a new side of Africa, the Anglophone side, to Benoit. I hope it assists him in the on-going work in CAR and gives him hope for what the future of his country could be. It was fun to see his reaction at seeing new people groups, such as the Masai, learning that they don’t steal from each other and experiencing their generosity. It was moving to see Benoit’s interaction with former displaced people in Uganda; people who had lived in Internal Displacement (IDP) camps for twenty years as a result of the rebellion of Joseph Kony and the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA). The LRA have been terrorizing communities in CAR and fresh attacks occurred last week in the South East. Benoit asked them to go get him and take him home, to Uganda, as we don’t want him in CAR. Needless to say, they don’t want him back either.

On driving up the Gamboula road, I was greeted by Nadege, one of my sister’s and supervisor of the nutrition garden. She had been waiting for us by the side of the road. I jumped out the car and progressed on foot towards Clarisse’s house. As we got near to her house, she saw us in the distance, my white skin a beacon that I had arrived. She ran towards us, something rather unbecoming of an African mother, but she abandoned all sense of culture and just ran towards me, giving me a big hug. I knew then, what i have known for a long time, that this will always be a home of mine, no matter where in the world Darren and I find ourselves, we will always be welcome here.

I spent the morning with Nadege in the nutrition garden, weeding and talking and sharing stories. I have been trying to capture some of these stories on video and plan on sharing them with you via YouTube when I return to a high speed internet connection. One story is about a woman from Kentzou. She was a refugee from the banditry in CAR, married to a Fulani man, but not Fulani herself. Her child was terrible malnourished and sick and with the little money they had they took the child all the way to the hospital in Yaounde, Cameroon. After spending a lot of money they returned with their child to Kentzou worse off than before. Soon after, they arrived at the Gamboula hospital with little hope that the child would survive. However, the child did survive, and is now thriving thanks to both the medical and nutritional care she received in Gamboula. The mother was especially thankful for the nutrition garden, exclaiming every day over the vegetables, fruits and starches she was given free to help in her child’s recovery. They went home after three months and the woman continued to practice what she learned in the nutrition garden.

This mother recently came to visit Nadege and explained that she wanted to pay back her debt of gratitude to the nutrition garden. She gave Nadege some money to have a small area in the nutrition garden cleared to prepare a place to plant. The mother promised to come back with seeds and planting material to plant in this cleared space, in the hopes that her ‘donation’ to the garden would, in turn, help others who found themselves in the same position as herself: hopeless, hungry and destitute.

Surprise

I have never seen Benoit so excited as I have this week. From being 'decorated' by Masai women, a ceremony by which they present you with gifts of beadwork jewelry, to seeing herds of zebra, giraffe and wildebeest along side the car, to hearing that Masai do not steal from one another and that you can leave your house unlocked during the day. It was one surprise after another for him and I think he will have stories to tell for years to come.

More importantly, we met many community initiatives working to bring about food security. They were all run by Africans for Africans and I think this was very good for Benoit to see. He saw how the challenges here are not much different from the challenges in CAR, and yet here Kenyans are making a difference, finding local solutions to local problems. I think this will change how our project is working in CAR for the better and will give us lots to talk and think about over the next month.

When I get settled in Gamboula I will start posting up a storm.

Quick Update from Kenya

I have found time to write a brief note after returning from two days out visiting projects with the Masai near the Ngong Hills. Benoit was eager to learn about their culture and their struggles with drought and floods that had wiped out more than 80% of their cattle. As we drove down the road we could see skeletons of animals long dead from the drought. I drank a lot of goat's milk tea and ate my share of roasted goat, along with Benoit's help. We learned a lot from the projects we visited and have a lot more to think about now for our own project, CEFA, back in CAR.

We are heading out to Narok tomorrow, and will be back in Nairobi for two more nights after that. I have not had an inch of excercise in weeks but look forward to getting into the garden once I reach Gamboula.

From the road,
Angela

Uganda, February 21-27, 2010

“When I get older I will be stronger, they’ll call me freedom just like a wavin’ flag”. K’naan said it and I felt it in Uganda. While poverty still has a hold in Uganda, I saw hope for a day free from poverty, free from reliance on IDP* camps and foreign assistance. Ugandan’s are a proud and independent people and from all of the projects I visited I was overwhelmed by the deep belief of Ugandan’s that they know the answers to their own problems, they have the solutions and many of the resources from within their own communities, and the assistance they require and are asking for is to complement this.

I was privileged to visit a grain amaranth growing project in Eastern Uganda called Garner Amaranth. They were growing and promoting a high quality grain amaranth for use as a nutritional food supplement which is particularly beneficial for people suffering from HIV/AIDS. For those unfamiliar with amaranth, it is in the same family as ‘pig weed’, a nasty weed in North America. Its seeds are slightly smaller than sesame but have a very high protein quality and can be ground into flour or popped, like popcorn, but much smaller, making it very digestible. We were treated to a tasty meal by Garner, which, not surprisingly, incorporated amaranth into every dish. I am not sure if it was the power of suggestion or not, but I woke up feeling healthy and strong the next morning!

From there we drove north to the Teso region of Uganda, an area affected by the rebel army of Joseph Kony and the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA). As late as 2003, the area had been attacked by the LRA and as a result thousands of people had been living in IDP camps; makeshift towns that housed more people than is healthy, disrupting culture, livelihoods and relationships. Now, fortunately for Uganda and unfortunately for the Central African Republic, Sudan and Congo, the LRA has been kicked out of Uganda and are operating in the bush on the shared borders of CAR, Sudan and Congo. Just last week, LRA soldiers had attacked a small town in CAR capturing 30 people who had gathered for shelter at the local Catholic church. Benoit, my Central African colleague, was most upset and asked Uganda to come and get him and see he can face justice. I am pretty sure Uganda does not want him back.

We had a chance to visit farming cooperatives and learn about the way they are organized and work together. It was inspiring and I know Benoit learned a lot that he will take back to CAR. While our context in CAR is different from that in Uganda, I think it was inspiring for Benoit to see fellow Africans, with similar food and agriculture challenges solving their own problems in an organized and, in many times, profitable way. We will have a lot to discuss when we get back to CAR as far as project organization and program planning go.

This trip has been valuable for Benoit to see his African brothers and sisters taking steps towards their own freedom in ways that can be achieved in CAR as well. With time, they will be singing freedom from poverty in CAR too.


This is Benoit seeing sunflower, an oil crop, for the first time. He is very interested!