One of the projects I'm somehow attached to is a women's mushroom farming group.
The pilot project began in July, in a village near the border with Burundi. 30 women attended a week long training course and received materials. Then they had to wait for the mushrooms to grow. Two weeks later, 23 of them decided the whole thing was a conspiracy--after all only way to get really mushrooms is to wait for the rains and search for them in the forest. The group's calm chairwoman responded to the exodus with a simple "Let them leave. We'll just continue until we use up all our seeds. We'll see what happens." 7 women kept on preparing mushroom substrate and caring for their growing mycelium, not certain their efforts would amount to anything.
But earlier this week Chairwoman arrived at the mushroom house and saw her first crop poking through the plastic. She was so excited that she flew up the steep and dusty hill back to her house. "I was so happy, I danced! People watching me must have thought 'But what has happened to that woman? Has she gone crazy, or what?'"
A few days later, with dozens of mushrooms everywhere, the women invited some passing children into their mushroom house--(reactions: "Eh! Mushrooms! Huh.") to spread the good news quickly. According to village gossip, general opinion of mushroom growing has gone from bitterly skeptical to amazed.
Chairwoman's trust in fate paid off. She says these are "very delicious" mushrooms, that are especially nice fried with tomato.
