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- [00:00]
Unknown Speaker 1
As we approach the end of the year, I'm thinking about the next. Next year is the year I finally make my Spanish better than my 9 year olds. Rosetta Stone is the most trusted language learning program available on desktop or as an app, and it truly immerses you in the language that you want to learn. I can't wait to use Rosetta Stone and finally speak better than my 9 year old who's been learning Spanish in his own way. Rosetta Stone is the trusted expert for 30 years. With millions of users and 25 languages offered. Spanish, Spanish, French, Italian, German, Korean, I could go on fast language acquisition. Rosetta Stone immerses you in many ways. There are no English translations, so you can really learn to speak, listen and think in that language. Start the new year off with a resolution you can reach today. The Moth listeners can take advantage of this Rosetta Stones lifetime membership for 50% off, visit rosettastone.com moth that's 50% off unlimited access to 25 language courses for the rest of your Life. Redeem your 50% off at Rosetta Stone.com moth today.
- [01:08]
Unknown Speaker 2
The moth is supported by Blinds.com ShoppingWithBlinds.com is a nearly risk free experience thanks to their sure Fit guarantee. Make a mistake measuring your windows blinds.com remakes your window treatment for free and sends it right to your home. Visit now for great prices on the home decorating looks you love only@blinds. You'll always get free color samples, free shipping, free expert decorator advice, and prices that crush the ones you'll find in stores. That's blinds.com support for the moth comes from Happy Ish. This Sunday on Showtime, Steve Coogan, Kathryn Hahn and Bradley Whitford star in Happy Ish, the new original comedy series about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. In a world where the ridiculous is standard and happiness is optional, Tom and Lee Payne are desperately trying to protect their happy place from anything that dares to invade insane bosses, inane culture, even skinny jeans. Happy ish new episode Sunday at 9:30 8:30 Central only on Showtime.
- [02:13]
Dan Kennedy
Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. This week on the podcast, we're bringing you four stories from a special show we did in Washington, D.C. this past December, and all of the storytellers come out of a community workshop that we did. There are stories here that are amazing. A particular one that I'm in love with is a great story about building something called a fish bank in Bali, a way of rejuvenating and stabilizing a fishery that as you can tell by now, I'm really passionate about fish and fishing, which is that gets the cats out of the bag. But this would have taken years and years and years to come get done in the United States. This is amazing what this man accomplished in Bali. Here is the Moth Radio Hour, hosted by our senior producer, Sarah Austin Janess.
- [03:16]
Unknown Speaker 2
From prx. This is the Moth Radio Hour. This episode features three Moth stories from African countries and one from Indonesia. If this is your first time listening to the show, hello and welcome. I'm Sarah Austin Janess from the Moth and I'll be your host for this hour. At the Moth, we produce events where everyday people tell true personal stories for audiences all over the world. And each week we share a few of them here with you. The four storytellers in this episode were all part of workshops that Larry Rosen and I taught with people working in global health. They're all New Voices fellows from the Aspen Institute. We asked them the not so simple question, why do you do what you do? Our first storyteller is Lindiwe Majelli Sibanda, one of Africa's leading advocates for food and Nutrition Security. Her PhD thesis was about improving the productivity of indigenous goats. Over the course of our story workshop in Naivasha, Kenya, we ate all of our meals together. And it was over one dinner that Lindiwe said, you know, I lost 80 pounds and I've kept the weight off. I should tell that story sometime. And she did. That's the story you're about to hear. Here's Lindiwe live at the Mall.
- [04:41]
Lindiwe Majelli Sibanda
Part of my umbilical cord is buried in Loagweru village in Zimbabwe, at the doorstep of a thatched hut which used to be my grandmother's bedroom. My grandmother Mayembe was a great woman. Agriculture was in her blood. Her local community named her Mayembe, a Zulu name which means a woman who wears overalls because she worked hard. She would get us up at four in the morning all in prayer. And her prayer was always, I wish all my grandchildren would grow up to be farmers and feed not just their families, but the whole of Zimbabwe. She would work on her one acre plot where she kept goats, she kept cattle, she had a mixed farm with corn, she had an orchard, she had a vegetable garden, and she had a bean patch. And all this was to feed not just her six children and her 50 grandchildren, but the entire community around her. It is no surprise that I then chose a career in agriculture. I was lucky enough to get a government scholarship to go and study in Egypt. When I got to Egypt, life was not too different from Zimbabwe. But after my first degree I got another scholarship to go and study in England. There, life was different. What was most different was the food. Right at the hostel where we stayed, they served us hamburgers, they served us French fries, they served pizza and there was soda anytime you want it. And I enjoyed that. Four times a day I would drink Coca Cola. These are things I never afforded when I grew up. And when I saw it's plenty and affordable, I enjoyed and indulged. I graduated and went back and took up a job at the local university. And within the first two months I met my Mr. Handsome and got married. Life was fun, just the two of us graduates working as professors at the university. We lived the life we had arrived, we could eat out as much as we can. And Zimbabwe had moved on by then. And just next to the university a food court had opened and all the french fries, McDonald's, Kentucky Fried Fish, Kentucky Fried Chicken was just at our doorstep. Mr. Handsome would pick me up lunchtime, we'll go in our Mini Cooper car and park, open our doors and enjoy pizza. And he loved his french fries. After work we would go to the college bar every single day without fail, because that's where you caught up with the local gossip. We would drink all the sodas, anything we wanted. After that we'd play squash or go swimming and then go out and eat out. There was no need to cook at home. After all, we're educated and development is about affording anything you want. That was the benchmark where we were. Within a year I got my first child, a bouncing nine pound baby. Just as well it was within the first year because if we had delayed, village elders would have been summoned to sit us down to find out if there is a problem. So we got that right. My grandmother, who was still alive then sent my eldest aunt, who is my favorite aunt Ellis, to come and look after me to make sure that in my new responsibilities of looking after this baby, I do not neglect Mr. Handsome, but also that I'm well fed with our traditional foods and would improve my milk laid down. So she prepared the traditional brew, she prepared all the lovely traditional foods. And my aunt Ellis made sure every day at 5am I got a pot full of porridge to eat. I got my lunch with the goat meat that my grandmother used to prepare when I was a kid. And then for dinners it was all the vegetables, all from my grandmother's field. Auntie Alice used to stay four full months. And the idea being by four months, the baby's old enough to be weaned onto solids and that's a good time for her to turn her back and go to her own farm in the village. The moment she turned her back, we went back to our fried french fries, because that's the food, that's the life. And the measure where I come from is when you eat out, it means you've arrived, you can afford. I had my second child after three years and by the fifth year of marriage I had three children. A lot had changed in those five years. I could no longer go and play squash and go swimming. But one thing that didn't change is the food that we ate. Even though Aunt Alice would come those four months, we would still go back to our food. University wise, I was doing very well. But one big change was my body. Before I knew it, I was weighing 220 pounds. The world told me I was happy. We come from a community where big means you can afford what you want to eat, you are happy, you are healthy. So what's your problem? You've got the money, spend it on yourself. So because I was doing so well, I was asked, invited to go and speak in a global conference which was on food security, the area I study. I prepared my speaking notes and my message was very clear. Africa needs to feed Africa. We need to improve productivity and our families can feed themselves. That's a message that was clear. I go to England. There were three keynote speakers. We took up the stage just like this one. The first speaker was from Europe and he addressed the topic of global food security by unpacking that food security is about food you produce, is about access and markets. It's also about utilization. And developed countries are not doing well because they are wasting a lot of food. If only they could reduce waste, Africa would not be starving. I went, yeah, I'm going to get a great hook from that speech because I'm talking about an Africa that needs to improve productivity. The second speaker was from India. She took the floor and explained that in the 60s in India, they had gone through massive starvation, big hunger, but thanks to the green revolution, they produced a lot of rice and a lot of wheat. But they are now facing hidden hunger. I went, oh, hidden hunger, that's close to what we're facing in Africa. But she went on to elaborate that as a result of this hidden hunger, there is obesity, there are diseases like hypertension and diabetes, and now they're facing stunting massive problems, all to do with agriculture and nutrition. I sat on my chair about to stand up. And when I was called, I looked down. There was I wanting to represent a continent that is hungry, a continent that needs to increase productivity. And I was representing in my body an overweight person, overfed and just the opposite of what I was standing to advocate for. I was filled with shame as I stood up. I took the podium and started to talk, only to realize I had forgotten my speaking notes on my chair. Instead of going back to pick up my notes, I just rambled on and just went on and on for 20 minutes. I even forgot I had a PowerPoint I had to put up. I was just filled with shame. When I finished speaking, I took my position with the other speakers and waited for questions. Full one hour of questions, all directed at the two speakers and nothing for me. I knew I had messed up. Moment we stepped down, I went straight to my hotel, packed my books and caught the next flight back home. I just could not face coming back to the conference. As I flew back to Zimbabwe, I was clear in my head something had to change. I got home. As I opened the door, looking forward to seeing my babies, guess who had come to visit all without notice. Auntie Ellis had come from the village. I was so excited because she was my favorite aunt. I was like, auntie, you are here. This is great. She pulled back and said, girl, what has happened to you? What have you been eating? I got a flashback of the London conference and all the things I'd had, and tears started coming down my face. I'm like, auntie, you can't do this to me. And she said, look here, we can fix this. Come and see what I brought for you. I brought all the harvest from my garden and from my farm. We've got to fix this. She went straight from the fridge and opened the fridge. 20 bottles of coca Cola. She just pulled them out and said, this is sugar. Get it out of your fridge. No more soda in this house. She went for expensive prepacked foods, the beggars. And she said, we're going to fix this. You've got to eat right. Aunt Ellis stayed with us four months. The first two weeks were tough. I would wake up at night in sweat, dreaming that I cheated and had a soda just to realize that it's all a dream. My feet were sore, tingling sensation of just dehydration because I was craving for a soda. But I was so determined to make this work. End of first month, I'd lost one dress size. By second month, I had lost two dress sizes. But at the same time, my friends were talking. Two brave friends came to me and said, are you sure you are okay? We come from a place where you lose weight, you need the doctor. And unfortunately you don't need the doctor because of diabetes and hypertension. You need the doctor because it's HIV and aids. I assured them that this was deliberate. I wanted to change, but then they just smiled. I went on with the good food that Auntie was preparing. After four months, I had moved from size 20 to a size 12. Auntie turned her back and went, and now the same friends came to me and said, what drug are you on? We want that. As I go about my everyday work as an advocate for food security, I now emphasize nutrition security. Every day I wake up to cook for my family with my own hands, to cook my own food. And one thing I know for sure, my grandmother Mayembe is smiling in her grave. Auntie ellis, who is 110 years old now, is happy that I will get to her age. But I leave it to her. Thank you.
- [16:46]
Unknown Speaker 2
That was Lindiwe Magelli Sibanda. Lindiwe coordinates agricultural development programs in 17 African countries. Lindiwe said one of her dreams is to become the Oprah of African agriculture with a talk show that's all about successful development stories for her Auntie Ellis's 100th birthday party. Lindiwe and Ellis ate cake, of course, to see a photograph of the festivities and for the recipe of Lindiwe's favorite Zulu dish, tripe, Mufushua and pap go to themoth.org Coming up next, a Ugandan boy and the meaning of an iron roof.
- [17:34]
Sarah Austin Janess
The Moth is supported by Boxed Wholesale. Boxed offers an array of warehouse sized non perishable products from national brands available via mobile app for delivery to the home or office. Featuring two day delivery on most orders. More@boxed.com Moth the Moth radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts and presented by prx.
- [18:01]
Unknown Speaker 2
The Moth is supported by Casper, an online retailer of premium mattresses. When I saw the Casper mattress come out of the small box it was delivered in and expand before my eyes into a queen sized bed. I gave it three holy two oh my goshes and one big whoa. Right now, Casper has a special offer for listeners of the Moth podcast. Moth listeners can get $50 towards any mattress purchase by visiting Casper.comMoth and using the promo code Moth at checkout. This is the Moth Radio Hour from prx. I'm Sarah Austin Janess. This hour explores the developing world with stories about public health, agriculture and education. All of our storytellers were part of workshops the Moth taught in Aspen, Colorado and Naivasha, Kenya. Our next storyteller is James Cassaga, who was raised in rural western Uganda. And that's where this story takes place. Here's James with his moth story.
- [19:08]
James Casaga
As a 10 year old boy growing up in rural western Uganda, I disliked how impermanent our grass thatched roofs were. Particularly because I had spent most of my Saturday weekends going out to cut grass to replace this grass thatched roof. And after all that work, every month these little rascals called termites would come and eat up the grass and I'll have to do the thing over and over again. But my brother and I went out to do that because we had to do it because my father was ill in this hut with HIV and my grandmother was helping take care of him. And so I did cut the grass and my hands still bled, but I had to do it anyway. Until one day my friend from the neighborhood, Asaf, came and I always played soccer with Asaf on weekends when I didn't have to cut grass. And he said, are we playing soccer today? You know, I want to beat you this time. And I said, asaf, I am sorry I won't place today with you. I helped cut grass to replace papa's roof because, you know, he's sick and I don't want rain to fall on him. And Asaf looked at me and said, you mean you have to cut grass all the time to replace the roof? Why don't you guys have an iron roof? Like, you know, you would say, dude, don't you have an iron roof? And so, and so I had been to Asaf's family. I had spent time there once in a while his mom would cook for us and would eat with them. And I had seen that they had this aluminum looking roof and it would rain and they would collect water from the roof and they would give people clean drinking water. And I thought, but why didn't we have an iron roof? And so, as I always did when I was confused, I had questions that needed clarity. I went to my grandmother. So I went to Kaka, the busy woman who was taking care of my father. And I said, kaka, you know, as a family, have an iron roof and we keep cutting grass all the time, why don't we have an iron roof? And she always looked at me with her loving eyes and she said, my grandson, why don't you buy us that one iron roof one day? And I knew then that we could not afford the iron Roof. And soon my father continued getting ill more and sicker and sicker and his HIV progressed into aids. My brother, my older brother, the one I cut grass with, dropped out of school so he can help take care of him. And I went off to school every single day, seven miles away from school, run barefooted, would wake up 6am, milk, the cow, run off. And I continued to see that there was a struggle because there's need for clean water, there's need for firewood. As again I went to my grandmother and I said, kaka, but why do I have to go to school every single day, seven miles? I come home late at night, you need water, you need all these things. Can I stay and take care of papa? And this time she looked at me family and looked at me in my face again and said, do you see why your brother is here at home? Do you see what I do every day? To take care of your papa? You will stay in school. And so I went to school unconvinced. I had to do it anyway. As a 10 year old boy, I had to obey my grandmother. Until one morning we received an invitation from one of my cousins, Stephen. The family had invited us for Stephen's graduation. Stephen had been the first young man to leave our community, our village, to go off to Kampala to study at university at Makere. And he was returning home for his graduation. And the village was excited. The young children were singing heroic songs. The women were grinding on their millet stones. The bull was slaughtered as culturally as it did. And the beef stew was in the air, the smells of curry. The tents were decorated with banana leaves and balloons. And I happened to come and I sat in the audience like you are. And I remembered Stephen. He was a ragtag young man who played soccer in the village. Really shabby. This time he returned and he stood as the guest of honor and he looked more regal and more confident. And he wore a suit and tie and he had a graduation cap. And Stephen had graduated from Makere and he had landed a job with the government as a paymaster. And he stood and he spoke of the value of education. And he said, I have built a clean water well so you don't have to go farther to fetch water for my village. And he had built a clinic that mothers would give birth in that same clinic they don't have to go 40 miles away to look for a place to give birth. And he said, for my family, I am building them an iron roof. And I remember looking at Stephen. And I was an OK student, but the Next week when I went to school, I asked for more hours for my teachers so I could concentrate on geography and science and the things that I never understood at 10 years old. You may be surprised. I created small little groups to solve math problems that I didn't understand. And I even did something crazy. I went out during the whole days for kids who had were of parents who took them to boarding schools in the city. And I would borrow their papers and I would study at night so that I can prepare for the national exams that doesn't discriminate between. And so when the national exams came back, I was the best student in my county of four schools. And I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship from the first lady to attend high school in Kampala, the capital city. The magical place with lights. And that same opportunity, of course led to my college sponsorship to come to the United States. Fifteen years later, I've returned to Uganda. And I had the opportunity to return to my village. And I fortunate and I brought a clean water well to my village. For my family. I bought them a piece of land and I was also able to build them an iron roof, but this time with solar panels. And I remember one Sunday morning I walked with my kaka, my grandmother, to go to church. And we were walking up the hill and as her fibonnies started to slow down and she was holding my hand and we stopped a little bit at the hill and we looked at each other in the eyes as we were talking. She was telling me stories that I missed in the village. And I tell her stories of America and where I had been. And we looked at each other. At that moment I looked at her and I said, kaka, how do you like your iron roof now? And she said, my grandson, I am now happy to d. Thank you.
- [27:22]
Unknown Speaker 2
That was James Casaga. James father passed away from HIV AIDS, leaving him orphaned at the age of 10. James now partners with secondary schools in Uganda to provide leadership development for youth. He says he has dreams of one day serving his country in a way that gives each and every Ugandan a fairer shot at life. To see a photo of James, his grandmother and their iron roof being built, go to themoth.org by the way, all the music in this hour was chosen by the storytellers. Next up, a story from Sasanki. Msimang Sasanki is a writer and activist dedicated to human rights and democracy. Here's Sasanki live at the mall.
- [28:30]
Sisanki Nisimo
So I am the product of a freedom fighter and an accountant, which I guess would make me a Pragmatic idealist. My father left South Africa when he was 21 years old to join the armed wing of the liberation struggle. And a few years later, he met my mother, who was. Well, she wasn't my mother at the time, but he met an accounting student, a young accounting student who was charming and beautiful. And the rest, as they say, is history. So when we were growing up, my parents used to say things like, when we are free one day, when freedom comes, when liberation is here. And our favorite would be when Nelson Mandela is released from jail. And my sisters and I would look at each other and be like, yeah, right, like that's ever going to happen, right? Nelson Mandela is going to get out of jail. And of course he did. And not only did he get out of jail, but actually he was the first president of a free and democratic South Africa. And so fast forward, it's the mid-1990s. My family is back, I'm back from university, and I've landed my first job. And it's actually my dream job. I'm working for the United nations on a program on young people and HIV and aids. And so, of course, it's a, you know, pragmatic idealist dream come true, right? On the one hand, it's a. It's the U.N. so it's like, you know, love, peace and happiness. And on the other hand, let's face it, the UN is like the world's biggest bureaucracy, right? So it's like rules and systems and procedures and like, I'm in heaven, right? Both at the same time in one place. So it's great. So it's great. So I'm. I'm very happy. I'm also really excited because I get to throw myself into my new country and this new job all at the same time. Because by this time, it's clear to me that while my parents generation, for them, the struggle was one to end white minority rule, for my generation, the struggle is going to be slightly different, right? For us, it's going to be the tangibles. It's going to be health and education and water and sanitation, the things that you kind of need to know stuff about, right? So I throw myself into reading and research and trying to figure out as much as I can, because I'm the pragmatic idealist, right? So I've got to figure out how to do this stuff. And so I can tell you everything about HIV and AIDS and young people, because that's what my new job is about. I can tell you about the key elements of a plan for the syndromic management of STIs. I can tell you how many young women living in the northern KwaZulu Natal district of Tutliwe, age 15 to 19, are living with HIV. I can tell you the likelihood of HIV transmission and a single sex act, like, I am on it. And then, of course, I meet Prudence. So I'm sitting in my office one morning, no doubt, with my head buried in some or other, you know, research report, and this kind of whirling dervish of a mad, sort of dreadlocked teeth and joy and laughter person kind of plunks herself in front of me and she introduces herself. And like me, she's a young woman who's working for the un. And while I was working on a program on young people in aids, Prue was working. She was one of the first people living openly with HIV and AIDS in South Africa. And so she was working for the UN to help to reduce stigma in the workplace. So she was hired to kind of demonstrate to employers that, like, people living with HIV aren't going to bite, right? And that you can actually hire people living with HIV and there's going to be no negative consequences for you or your bottom line. And so we had a lot in common. And so we hung out, not just in the office, but on weekends. You know, there were concerts and there were plays, and South Africa was this, like, amazing new blossoming place with this fantastic new constitution, and everybody had rights, and Prue and her sort of mad group of friends were all lesbians, which was, like, fantastic for me because, like, my cool points shot up, like, a thousand percent. So it was wonderful. It was great. It was a wonderful, wonderful time. But of course, it wasn't as simple as things seemed on the surface. After some time, it became clear to me that Prudence was in a very violent and abusive relationship. And so I pulled her aside and I was like, pru, like, what's going on, man? You know, you're the most confident, amazing woman I know. What's happening? And she's. Doesn't matter, right? It doesn't matter, because what's going to happen is you need to get out of this relationship, and. And the way you're going to get out of that is you're going to move in with us, right? There's plenty of space in our house. Come and live with us. And so before you knew it, Pru was living with us, and of course, there wasn't a lot of space, so she was living in my room, and actually, she was not Just staying in my room. She was staying in my bed. So we were like, chatter, chatter, chatter, late into every night, and we would get up in the morning and go to the office exhausted because we were talking so much. And twice a week, because Prudence had managed to wangle her way into this experimental drug treatment program, because these were the days before antiretrovirals were widely available. Twice a week, we would get on the highway from Pretoria where we lived, and drive to Johannesburg to the doctor's office where she would have the meds. And I remember the first time we got to the doctor's office, I parked and I took the key out of the ignition, ready to get out. And Prue was like, no, you stay here. And I'm like, oh, but we do everything together. Okay, okay, okay, stay in the car. And so Prue went in and the drive back was in silence, right? There was no talking. And so this happened twice a week, every week for a few weeks. And after a couple of weeks, the meds were clearly starting to have their effects on her. And we got to the doctor's office one morning and she needed help. There were two stairs to sort of go, two steps to walk up, to get into the doctor's practice. And so she needed some help. And so I got out to help her. And, like, inside, secretly, I'm like, you know, I'm feeling really bad that she's not feeling well, but thank God I get to go inside because now I see what's going on in there, right? So I. So we go inside, and it's the small, the little room, and it's about 12 to 15 people who are sitting in that room, and it's this deathly silence. And contrary to what all the headlines were telling us at that time about what AIDS looked like, right? AIDS is a black disease. AIDS is a gay disease. AIDS is a disease of poverty. Actually, this room didn't look like that at all, right? It was a fairly affluent, middle class room, but it was clear that nobody in that room wanted to be there. So there was like this deathly silence. And so we kind of crept in and we sat down and, you know, people would be called one by one, and the receptionist called this name, and it was, you know, first names only. And she called Alice. And Prue stands up and she goes inside and I'm like, huh? And she comes back out after about you know, 30 minutes or so, and we go back into the car and we start making the long silent trek, you know, back to Pretoria. And so I'm driving. And I look at her and I say, what's he like? And Prue says, what's who like? And I said, the doctor. What's he like? And she looked at me for a long moment and she said, he won't touch me without gloves on. And I realized that my friend, right, my brave, courageous, amazing friend, who is openly living with HIV in a time when people are getting killed for that, right, who is an out lesbian at a time when women were getting killed for that, still are actually, right, that she's also petrified and vulnerable and ashamed of herself. And that's not a contradiction. That's all of us. That's life, right? It's all happening at the same time. And so in that moment, Prue taught me a really powerful and important lesson, a lesson that I have carried with me in 20 years as an activist and as an ally with people living with HIV and aids. And it was a lesson that was basically that it was fine to be a pragmatic idealist, right? That pragmatism is good and. And idealism is good, but that what I was missing was empathy. And that if I was going to make any kind of difference, if I was going to. That I wasn't actually listening to what Prue was saying. I was kind of listening, but I wasn't listening enough, right? And that if I was going to make any kind of impact and if I was going to be the kind of advocate that I wanted to be, that what I was going to have to do was listen not just to the words of people like prudence, but much more importantly, I needed to listen to the silences.
- [38:15]
Unknown Speaker 2
That was Sisanki Nisimo. Since Sisanki told this story, she decided to apply pragmatic idealism to her approach to motherhood. She's taking some time off to listen to her children, and she says, quote, boy, can they talk. After our break, a marine expert hatches a plan to bring back fish to Bali.
- [38:43]
Lindiwe Majelli Sibanda
All thy children shall reap what you've.
- [38:52]
Sarah Austin Janess
So the Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by the Public Radio Exchange prx.org the moth is supported by.
- [39:05]
Unknown Speaker 2
Squarespace, the all in one platform that makes it fast and easy to create your own professional website. Squarespace offers beautiful templates, integration with Google Apps and Getty Images, and an incredible feature called Cover Pages. All Squarespace sites feature responsive designs, so your site looks great on any device. Go to squarespace.com themoth for a free trial with no credit card required and start Building your website today. Get 10% off your first purchase at squarespace.com themoth squarespace build it. Beautiful Sarah I'm Sarah Austin Jenest and you're listening to the Moth Radio Hour. This episode features world health experts. They were used to addressing audiences with PowerPoint and statistical research. Most had never put themselves in their material. The Moth taught storytelling workshops, asking them to remind themselves of what they were doing in plain speech. Many of them told us afterwards that this helped them tap in and reconnect to their work. The last story in this hour is told by Jensi Sartin. Jensi grew up in the rainforests of Borneo before moving to Bali to become an advocate for the world's oceans. Here's Jensy Sartin.
- [40:21]
Jensi Sartin
I was sitting on the beach in Bali. It's a beautiful beach. And I was waiting for sunset. And I see from afar a small traditional boat came ashore. And of course a fisher was in there and the boat just ashore. And that the first time I met Newman the fisher. So I helped him push his boat to the land, make sure that it's safe enough from the wave. And while we pushing the boat, I asked this very, very simple question to Newman. I say, so how's your day? Did you catch lot of fish today? And hopefully the big ones. And he said, well, I wish, but unfortunately you can see he pulled some bucket. And yes, it just few fish and they are small. Actually a submarine, biologist, scuba diver, I really know what Newman said. Yes, this is Bali and like all other island in Indonesia, this is paradise. And I believe most of you will say Bali is a paradise. And yes, this is the center of world's coral reef. This is the place where you can see all the beauty, all the most colorful coral reef beauty of all the fish in the world. But if you go deeper, things actually different. The coral is destroyed, coral is damaged and they are not many more fish out there. And this is not just about 75% of world's coral reef gone extinct. It's not just about the fish that will just disappear. This is about people because there's a lot, there are lots of people that depends on this coral reef. There are a lot of people like Nyoman and other Nyoman that depends on this fish, this healthy coral to feed their family. It's about Nyoman as a dad that depends on this coral, this fish to ensure that he can send his kids to a good school. And I said to Nyoman, well, okay, so have you discussed this problem with the government? Our fisheries official and yeoman just said well the last time I did it, they have no clue what to do. And then while Nyoman like you know, trying to clean his boat, taking the fish out of the boat, he said this very, very, I never really expect this coming from Nyoman. He said life is difficult and sometimes you just have to accept it. When Nyoman said those words, it's like a deja vu for me. Like I've been there before. It was like few years ago when I'm still little kids and I and my parents, we live in deep rainforest in Kalimantan in Borneo. So I just like yeah, 12 years old, kids. And that time just amazing. I remember I see this, all these exotic birds, all the animals, the orangutan, there are lots of them. And I remember clearly remember the tree, just amazing. So if we want to hug a tree, it needs about 10 of us hold hand together just to hug a tree. I'm like wow. But somehow there are lots of foreign timber company coming to my tree, sorry, my forest. And what they did, they chopped down all the tree, they cut down all of my trees and then somehow again they leave us, which is later on I learned that it was the time when we had the ASEA financial crisis and I asked my father what's going on here? Why these people coming and then just cut down all of my trees and then no more beautiful birds, no more orangutan here and they just left us with nothing. And my dad at that time just said, well it's very hard to, very difficult to understand and sometime in life you just have to accept it. Well that time I just like, you know, 12 years, little kids. But that time, that moment when Nyong said the exact same words, sometimes in life you just have to accept it. I'm already 24 years old, I understand it. And I said this is not right. So courage growing inside of me. And I said to Nyoman, well Nyong man, if you think you deserve better life, you have to fight for it. And Yeoman just like cleaning, busy cleaning his boat. And then he stopped and suddenly looking at me and he said well Jensie, if you can bring back the fish, we will fight again. I said, well okay. So right, the next day I met with the government, go to the government office, talking with the official and I say I discussed this problem and just like what Neoman said, they have no clue what to do. So I come back and then meet Newman and his fellow officers. I say okay Nyoman, just like you said, the government, no clue. But I have a plan, I have an idea. So I said, we will create, we will make a fish bank. And your man just said, what? Fish bank. Fish bank. And I say, yes, fish bank. Just like your normal bank where you save your money, our fish bank. Instead of saving money, we will save our fish. So this is how we're gonna do this. We will choose, we will select some part of your or your fishing ground, the place you always fishing. We will close the area, we will protect it. So no one go there to fish. No one go there to catch our fish. So the fish can grow in bigger and bigger and then makes a lot of baby fish and the fish growing bigger and bigger again. But you can still fishing, you can continue your fishing activities, but not inside the fish bank, but outside the fish bank. Because fish swim in and out and they're thinking, well, sounds makes sense. And I say, well, I learned this fish bank from the time when I'm still in the university, and it works in some places in Philippines, things like that. But I'm not really sure. There are a lot of variations in nature. And Ngoman said, well, let's give it a try. But then we don't know what to do. None of us finish our elementary school actually. So I said to Nyoman, well, we will work together. So I help them, I teach them some skill. I teach Newman and his fellow fisher scuba diving so they can see how things work underwater. So this fisherman now become scuba diver and then see the fish move in there, moving there, like things like that. And then I teach them also how to do checking whether the coral is growing and whether the fish is growing bigger or more abundant, many more fish there. They also really, you know, guard the area, they protect it like the security. And then one year passed by and we have this very specific traditional ceremony for this fish bank. So it's like asking for blessing and also being thankful for what we've done. So we have this priest come in and pray for the fish bank and then sending all the prayers. And also lots of villagers come in, the small one, also the parents coming, bringing all the offerings. So it's like very sacred ceremony. But also we have like the young ones, the girls, the boy, you know, this traditional dancing, the Kecak dance, the Balinese dancing. So it's like a sacred ceremony, but also fun. And they invited me to come to the ceremony. So I go to the ceremony and Yeoman and his fellow officers and some of the elders come to me and say, jensi, few days ago we just checked our fish bank and you know what we found. There are lots of fish in the fish bank and not just a lot. They are big, they are big ones and not just inside the fish bank, it's also outside the fish bank. There are lots of big fish outside the fish bank. So next time you ask me how was my day, did I catch lots of fish today? I will say definitely yes Jensi, I catch lots of fish and not just lots, they are big ones. And Yoman take my hands and hold it really really deep. And he said, Jensey, the fish bank works. We bring back the fish, you bring back the fish, you bring back our hopes. Thank you.
- [52:48]
Unknown Speaker 2
That was Jensi Sartan. Jensi is the director of Reef Check Foundation. He's still documenting the health of Indonesia's coral reefs and devising community based strategies to prevent protect them. He says, I tried to find a photo of Nyoman above the water but am only able to find him underwater. Checking our fish bank. To see that shot and one of the Balinese fish bank ceremony go to themoth.org while you're there. You can pitch us your story by recording it right on our site. That's it for this episode of the Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time.
- [53:36]
Sarah Austin Janess
Your host this hour was Sarah Austin Janess. Sarah also directed the stories in the show along with Larry Rosen. The rest of the Moss directorial staff includes Kathryn Burns, Sarah Haberman, Jennifer Hickson and Meg Bowles. Production support from Whitney Jones. This hour was made possible thanks to the generosity and support of the Aspen Institute and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. The Moth would also like to thank Rachel Stretcher and Andrew Quinn. Moth stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the Storytellers. Moth events are recorded by Argo Studios in New York City supervised by Paul Ruest. Our theme music is by the Drift. Other music in this hour was chosen by the Storytellers and came from David O. Tiwa, Savage, Sarkodee and Lola Ray, Damascus, Kafumba, Miriam Makeba and Nidgee. You can find links to all the music at our website. The Moth is produced for radio by me, Jay Allison with Vicki Merrick at Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. This hour was produced with funds from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the John D. And Catherine T. MacArthur foundation, committed to building a more just Ferdinand and peaceful world. The Moth Radio Hour is presented by prx for more about our podcast, for information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website themoth.org.
- [55:03]
Dan Kennedy
There you go, another Moth Radio Hour right here on the Moth Podcast. Thanks to all of you for listening and like we always say, we hope you have a story worthy week.
- [55:13]
Unknown Speaker 2
Dan Kennedy is author of the books Loser Goes First, Rock on and American Spirit. He's a regular host and performer with the Moth when he's not on Twitter.
- [55:23]
Dan Kennedy
Moth events are recorded by Argo Studios in New York City, supervised by Paul Ruest Podcast audio production by Whitney Jones. The Moth Podcast and the Radio Hour are presented by prx, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public@prx.org.