After a fifteen minute drive through rural farmland, the dirt roads narrowing at every turn - as if the natural landscape is willfully reasserting itself in advance of our 4x4 pick-up - we arrive at our destination. The homestead of Rose Ojok, Local Council Chairwoman for Omito Parish, is well kept; a series of tidy thatched out-houses offsets their principle residence, a small but welcoming metal-roofed farmhouse, and the open spaces are covered by carefully tended green clover. A good omen, I think.
Women look up from the work of preparing food as our vehicle pulls up and one or two lets out the now-familiar ululation of happiness –
we’re welcome here. As the team prepares for the crowd that we hope will soon be arriving, Rose insists that I take a look at the stoves she’s currently preparing lunch on
– two ILF rocket stoves from our previous visit. I duck under the low lintel and enter into the hut, fully prepared to be engulfed in a cloud of smoke – I’ve seen the pictures of the thick smoke from indoor cooking and the reaction is unconscious. Surprisingly, I breath in cool air, and after my eyes adjust, I can see that only a small tendril of smoke is rising from the corner, even though the two stoves are burning at a full roar. I can’t help but smile.
You’ve tested these stoves yourself in a lab, so you KNOW they work, I tell myself, but still, seeing is believing –
this is the reason you’ve left my home behind for the next year, and it’s a beautiful sight!
Rose cooking with her stove
Rose's stove
Rose is overjoyed with the stoves, but I’ve figured that out even before the translation comes. In the opposite corner of the hut sits an elaborately constructed Lorena Stove – an intervention from some previous NGO. It’s a nice design, and I know it works well in other countries, but it’s clearly not meet Rose’s cooking needs - the proof is quite literally written on the wall. Not a single soot mark to be seen.
Well intentioned, I think,
but a testament to the complicated world of cook stoves – even a good stove won’t perform well if it doesn’t meet the needs of the targeted culture!
Rose’s niece Jennifer is outside chopping wood, a task I’ve grown familiar with having lived the last year and a half heating with firewood in central Vermont. I stroll over to lend a hand –
how different can it be! Quite, is the clear answer of the dull axe as my first blow glances violently off the twisted branch that I’m trying to split. The second connects but gets so deeply imbedded I can’t pull it out. Finally, after much wrangling, I get the hang of it, but after 15 sweaty minutes I’ve still only managed to create a small pile -
compared to the swift work of Jennifer, I’m clearly an amateur. My only consolation are the gaping smiles that paint everyone’s face when I look up.
Good for a laugh, at least! I think, with a smile.
Jennifer chopping wood
After cooling down I glance at my watch. It’s been about an hour since our arrival. I’m enjoying myself and the setting is idyllic, but a feeling of apprehension is starting to build deep down in my gut.
Where’s the rest of the community? It’s a feeling I’ve felt before - as a campaign organizer for the Obama campaign in 2008, I would arrive in advance of every community meeting with one question racing through my head, “will they show up, will they show up”.
One hour becomes two, and the nervous glances at my watch grow more frequent.
All of this planning and nothing to show for it! The list of questions starts growing in my mind -
maybe we’ve chosen a bad location, maybe we’ve chosen a bad day. Did we post enough fliers? Maybe people just aren’t interested… I’m stopped mid-thought as a young mother appears from the main path, her child bundled tight to her back and fast asleep in his perch. Another arrives, this time an elderly woman whose bare feet tell me that she’s no stranger to walking. Then a man on a bicycle, a well worn grin on his wrinkled face. Two more by foot. After the sixtieth villager, I stop counting and just sit back to enjoy myself. Its going to be just fine.
The community meeting in Omito Parish in action
One of the children at the community
meeting with stove bricks before mudding
|
Trainers of Trainers (ToTs) showing the community how to "mud"
their stoves. ILF sells or gives the bricks, the base component of
the stoves, to community members and they then "mud" the stoves
themselves to make them fully operational. |
A ToT Trainer
Three hours later, we pile back into the car. The road seems less wild in leaving than coming, and the voices of the team, talking excitingly behind me in Luo, echo the pleasure of my own thoughts.
Over 80 participants! A list of over 180 names submitted to us by Rose, all people who want a stove! The community’s excitement after we announced our plan for a new delivery! 9 newly elected community trainers and dates set for their training. And I thought the community election was going to be a nightmare to organize! A clear date set for our return. We did it!
A hand falls gently on my right shoulder, startling me from my thoughts. “
That is ‘African Time’” Patrick says, laughing from the back seat. I turn around, and for the third time that day, I smile.
Nicholas Salmons
Environmental Program Coordinator
Uganda