Gasshō,

I project that all of us doing practice know well this process: something happens; conditioned mind goes into resistance over-drive; suffering arises; time passes; awareness is applied; acceptance occurs; letting go follows, accompanied by a huge sense of relief and gratitude. We will probably never know for sure, but we are strongly suspicious that our friends in Kantolomba just went through that process--as a group, in record time.

One reason it is so difficult for us to read the tone of the community--aside from the baffling complex of cultural differences--is that, while the mood of the cooperative members seems uplifted and excited about our plans and prospects, there is suddenly so much sickness and death in the community that the energy is, as one would expect, quite subdued.

When we finished that first round of meetings, we were prepared to hunker down and slog along, knowing we really have no choice because we are unwilling to give up. But no one would have called the mood around Castle Lodge "encouraged" or "expectant." More like practicing like mad, reminding ourselves we're not doing this to get somewhere, and applying every tool we have to assist us to accept, embrace, and let go.

Shortly after we blogged the difficult interactions with the community, we received an email from someone in the Sangha who has spent many years working in similar areas throughout Africa. She encouraged us to take it as a sign of great progress and an indication of the depth of relationship that the folks in Kantolomba would let us know what they are truly thinking and feeling. If the relationships were less solid, the community would tell us whatever we seemed to want to hear and go about doing whatever they chose as soon as we left. It was heartening information to receive and certainly fits with what we've seen happening with other NGOs. A lot goes on when the sponsors arrive; everything reverts to "business as usual" as soon as the sponsors leave.

With everyone sick or attending funerals, there was no one left to gather at the compound, and we decided to spend our day meeting at Castle Lodge with Martha, Mukonda, and a blessedly healthy Theresa. The previous day had been devoted to laying out both vision and strategy in a way we hoped would be clear and inspiring for our new, expanded team. By the end of our time together it was obvious that we are all in complete agreement, and that this work, done in this way, is exactly what both Mukonda and Martha have been waiting for an opportunity to participate in. It was one of those "yes, and" conversations, in which we would propose a program or approach and one of them would say, "yes, and we can..." bringing in elements we hadn't considered that are a perfect fit.

This has been our strangest and in many ways most successful trip to date--or so it looks right now. It's true that each visit has a life of its own, one that reveals itself as we arrive, rarely having much, if anything, to do with our plans for the trip. But this one has been unique in ways difficult to pin down or articulate. The image that arises for me is one of putting up a building, perhaps along the lines of an old-fashioned barn-raising. You start with a bare patch of ground, you dig the foundations, make your way up to floor level, frame the walls, and then a whole gang shows up to lift the walls into place, and suddenly you have a building. This trip was the gang of folks lifting up the walls, making the building we've all been working on for so long a reality.

Friday is solidly committed to finishing the hammermill building, getting the plumbing fixed, making the building secure, and in general overseeing the men in all the construction projects. Mukonda is already providing critically needed health advice. The women are excited about having her work with the young girls on everything from sex education and birth control to the importance of staying in school. From there she will move on to health education for the whole compound. Already she's discovered that everyone is dehydrated--they drink a cup of water a day with their meal! Everyone she's seen so far has severe symptoms of dehydration; the importance of hydration will be their first community health education class topic. Martha will be offering classes each Saturday on every aspect of finance, as well as organizing the classes in English, adult education, and tutoring.

All this and a solid plan for implementation, complete with commitment to be in close email conversation with those of us in the States. These are smart, capable, competent, dedicated people, eager to assist those less fortunate than they, and the best part of all is that they're Zambian! They know the culture; they know how to get things done. They are a perfect combination of skills and talents to assist Theresa, on the Zambian side, and Jen, on the US side, in making the dream come true of Kantolomba as a sustainable community.

One very fun accomplishment this trip, something we've wanted to do for some time, is that we've figured out a way to begin to bring Muyunda on board. He's a really great guy, and over the years we've grown to love him. Now he's married, has a little daughter, and struggles daily, as so many here do, to find enough work to provide for his family. As he was driving us back to Castle Lodge late one afternoon, we asked him what he would do if he could choose anything. He said he'd study IT. He told us about taking classes in high school that allowed them to build things like radios. He loved it. Now he wants to learn computers. It was one of those moments, like asking Theresa lo those many years ago, "If you could do anything for your community, what would you do?" She answered, "I would turn our family home into a kitchen and feed the children." And here we are!

We had an old computer with us. It doesn't have a battery, has to be plugged in to work, it's hardly state of the art, but I wish you could have seen his face when Jen, showing him how to use it, typed a sentence telling him this was his new computer. He told us he will work hard to learn to use it so he can volunteer to send us photos and stories from the project. We told him that on the next trip we will bring a battery, but I suspect we will be able to find a way to do better than that. Over the years he's proved to be hard-working, honest, and deeply principled. We're betting that funky old computer is going to be just the doorway Muyunda has been looking for. He will take this opportunity and make a different future for his family.

Slowly we are hearing from Theresa that the community is really on board. Excitement is growing amidst continuing distressing news. Yes, Josephine is recovering from malaria, but Nelly has just been diagnosed. A little girl has fallen out of a tree and is waiting with her broken arm for Theresa to return with the money to get her to the clinic...

Theresa and I just spoke briefly about creating a plan for making mosquito nets a viable option for the cooperative members. The problem is that those tiny mud huts they live in become so intolerably hot that people cannot make themselves get under nets, even though they know that will decrease the possibility of malaria. Miserable sleep for months, verses malaria periodically. They choose to take their chances. We will talk to Friday about knocking large window openings in the walls and building in security bars. Then we can screen the windows and install mosquito nets. If we don't do something soon, we are in danger of losing all our friends. It's no wonder the life expectancy around here has fallen to 33 years--the lowest in the world.

Oh, one last thing we discovered on this trip: Everyone we asked recognizes self-talk, and the folks we surveyed say that, yes, self-hate is as alive and well in this part of the world as it is in ours. People have asked for years if we plan to bring awareness practice here. Odds are getting better that we will!

Please take very good care of yourself. Add an extra dose of kindness and appreciation to each moment of your day, and let us hear from you. (And, sign up for the email class if you haven't.)

In gasshō,
Cheri