7 / 8 / 2009

I apologize for the delay in this posting, we have been experiencing technical difficulties. I hope everyone is enjoying the blog...

Since both Monday and Tuesday were holidays, this is the first day of school since we discovered the faulty parts. Today probably marks a first in Zambia, and probably for many parts of Africa, if not the whole continent. We’re having a recall! That’s right, we know we gave you junk, but instead of laughing on the way to the bank, as some businesses in Africa seem to do, WBR is going to make it right. We drive back into the area of Chongwe and to a school called Ndapula, where just last week the organization gave out approximately 100 bicycles.

Ndapula is a small two-room schoolhouse that sits on a hill with a view for miles in every direction: very picturesque. The building is a bright blue, there is a swing-set in the yard and a huge meeting tree. There are only 4 teachers in Ndapula teaching 300 students from 1^st to 9^th grade. This school was only recently sanctioned by the Ministry of Education; before then it was a facility created by the locals because other schools were just too far away.

Even with the new school in this location, many students have to walk for miles to get here, and a few students decide the distance is just too far, hence WBR’s Bicycle Education Empowerment Program (BEEP). On the way to the school we actually came across a recent success story. Martha is about 13 and had dropped out of school last year, due to the distance. The local school board identified her as a candidate for BEEP. A week later she is not only back in school, but we found her helping another child make the journey. She is extremely excited to be back in school. Seventy percent of WBR ‘s BEEP bikes are targeted at girls. Educating the girls has the added benefits of decreasing child mortality, birth rates and increasing longevity.

On the way to the school, we leave the blacktop and travel 45 minutes over dirt roads. Much of the distance reminds me of the dirt roads I traveled as a boy at home in rural Missouri (many are still there). They are broad and groomed following the end of the rainy season with ample irrigation ditches alongside. But the last 5 miles are torturous; a simple jeep trail that only a bicycle or ox-cart should be on. We do in fact pass several ox-carts; they are the most numerous means of transport we see. The carts are mostly handmade, I would prefer to walk myself, rather than risk the contraption falling apart beneath me. All the fields on either side of the road are barren – its mid-winter and the dry season. Even barren they don’t look well tended.

When we arrive at the school, the repairs have already begun. The mechanics have set up their tarp under the meeting tree and started to replace the faulty wheels. 8 mechanics spend the entire day on the bikes. Since most have been in use only a week, there is little to do other than replace the wheels.

The kids wait patiently, watching the repairs. Just like at home the girls are less interested in what’s going on, they are chatting with each other, or playing. To a one, the boys are gathered around and paying rapt attention. When it’s their turn, they follow the bike like an expectant father, inspecting every move the mechanic makes. I am struck by searingly similar image of myself and other young boys as we tooled with our upside-down bicycles, acting like mechanics, or out fathers. I watch one young boy who is obviously cataloguing every piece that comes off to ensure it is put back accurately.

I swear the boy on the right was counting parts

Part of the business process is to collect the data. Each rider completes an interview following the wheel replacement: How far has the bike been ridden; what did you carry; has anyone else been using the bike? The mechanics find 5 hubs that are obviously close to failure. We are lucky there have been no catastrophic issues. The five hubs are packaged and sent to the manufacture for testing and analysis.

I take a few minutes to walk around and inspect the school. I meet Elizabeth, who runs the school. She is obviously delighted with the program! Since receiving bikes, two teachers have returned to help with the kids (30% of the bikes go to teachers and staff to ensure the schools can even provide a reliable schedule of classes). She also tells me that, due to the distances, the school actually has two periods: morning and afternoon. Otherwise, too much of the day would be lost to both commute and school. A half-day of school is a compromise.

When I look inside, I’m actually surprised to see all the lesson plans are in English. Vocabulary and alphabet lessons, multiplication tables (yeah, I know they’re Arabic, but the rest is English) are all just like what I remember from my first days in school. I’ve been aware that everyone in Zambia speaks English, but I assumed it was a strong universal second language, not the only language officially taught. The down side is the school is obviously geared to the most elementary education. The older children must abide by the same lessons every year. Elizabeth has carried on somewhere else, so I can’t ask any more questions in this regard. The children here, even though many are shoeless, seem much better off than those I met earlier in the week in the main village.

On the way back to Lusaka, we pass more ox-carts and the occasional farm-let. These are amazing to see; concrete or brick walls. Some rounded in what I imagine is the traditional shape for grass huts, and others square. There is still an incredible shortage of adults, this area seems to be populated purely by children and teenagers.

All-in-all, it’s been an extremely interesting day, but I’m glad to be getting back. The young room-mates, three kids in their 20’s, are going out on the town. I’ve been sick since Monday, and since I failed to bring flu remedies in my hubristic sense of health, the last few days have not been pretty. F.K. senses I’ve been struggling and offers his stash of Nyquil before heading home. I can’t believe how soft I’ve become, or how dependant I/we are on all the little things that make life easy and convenient. Good night everyone.