Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

We need water to live, in more ways than one. I am no expert in human biology, but I do know that one for sure. The sheer number of jugs of ShopRite water that we have consumed over the past three days will tell you that for certain. Water has a special way of calming people and I am no exception. I remember a specific instance when I was upset, and my mom stuck me in the car and drove to Lake Washington. On the drive she did not say a single word, instead letting the water do its job. Moments later I was breathing deeply and ready to talk. Water flows through every part of my life. In the Willamette River that runs through the city I call home. In the swimming pools that hold some of my most cherished memories. In the waves of Puget Sound crashing against the sand of my favorite place in the world. Although water makes a great impact on each of us, in different ways, I have found that there is little we can do to affect it. Water will continue, through diversions, against obstacles, noticing and feeling all of it, but continuing to flow. We may change the water, if only for a moment, slightly diverting its path on its way to its final destination.

As the waters of the Zambezi River poured over each and every one of us earlier today, I was once again reminded of a favorite phrase that was truly embodied in today’s experiences: “It’s about who chooses to stand with you in the pouring rain. When they could have chosen to be dry.”

Hiking along a cliff opposite Victoria Falls, this group was nothing short of ecstatic. Soaked to the bone, we exuded the sounds of laughter, excitement, and pure unfettered joy. Walking (sometimes skipping) with hands stretched to the sky, I couldn’t help but feel the beauty all around me. Yes, in the world’s largest single curtain waterfall but more in each Zag next to me. In Meg getting all of us to lay on the ground as the water continued to fall on our backs. In Taylor stomping in every puddle with me. In Sean’s commitment to filling up his water bottle via the sky. In Liv’s smiles despite her hair returning to its natural state. I watched the water wash over each of us. As it fell no one refused to get wet or tried to divert its path, instead choosing to let it pour. I am not sure I knew it at the time, but this quote of choosing to stand in the rain would come in handy for me as our group continued to complicate our experience of the day.

In the afternoon we headed to the Royal Livingston Hotel. We were greeted not only by a delicious high tea dining experience but with the stark comparison to the rest of Zambia we had experienced. The Hotel’s gleaming white walls, grand pianos, and perfectly trained zebras were pretty much as far as we could get from the street outside our hostel or the people outside our windows on the bus ride yesterday.

Beyond the window of our dining room, I once again saw the rushing waters of the Zambezi River. Instead of the sheer joy I found in droplets washing over my face, I had a whole new set of feelings. We continued the evening and watched the sunset over the river, once again watching its foaming deep blue waters rush over the edge. Here in the Royal Livingstone Hotel, twisting and turning waters below the cliff were obscured. The rush of the water, falling, and twisting until it hit the bottom was replaced by a quick rush of water to the edge and a plume of mist. The Hotel in some ways obscures the Livingstone that we knew we walking in its doors while at the same providing for the livelihoods of the staff who would never be able to stay there. It is messy, it is complicated, and it is not good or bad.

Water is not inherently bad or good. It allows the food we eat to grow and fuels our lives. At the same time it erodes, it washes away, and floods people’s livelihoods. It twists and turns and changes direction. That is representative of our day, maybe even of Zambia so far. We are sitting in the messy middle, riding the pendulum between two opposite ways of life, trying to find moments where differences can coexist. Not trying to shape or steer the water, instead letting each drop individually hit our faces, roll down our necks, and fall to the ground, eventually rejoining the collective and starting again.

I hope to stand in the shower and feel each drop. Understanding that the path the water takes may change the way I move through the world. I hope to find joy in the coming weeks of watching the droplets hit my ZamFam. The rain will hit them each differently and trace a unique path upon their life. The droplets will be good, bad, and everything in between. The lines they leave will be reasoned with and reflected upon. I cannot stop the rain by telling it to stop instead, just letting it pour. It never rains forever.

I am feeling a deep sense of gratitude that I am not standing in the rain alone. These incredible humans have dived in head first, some of them cannonballing into learning through and being shaped by these experiences. Today and in the coming days we will choose to stand in the pouring rain, hand in hand, and be soaked, once again by the waters of Zambezi. What a gift.

Sincerely,

Mary Pearl Haney (ZamFam “26)

Mom, Dad, and Ellen, I hear you in the laughter that follows this group and in birds that wake me up most mornings (although I could not tell you the species—have not spotted them yet). I feel you in the hugs from my ZamFam and the rushing Zambezi river as it falls over my shoulders. I see you in the smiles from strangers and in the blue butterfly that followed me today. I love you to Zambia and back, I anxiously await hearing of all your adventures. Love, MP

Notes from the Zags:

Happy Birthday Pheobe!!! You are my favorite person, so proud of you! -Love Margaret

This group is headed out on Safari (woot woot)! So there will be no blog tomorrow, but don’t fear, it will return on Friday! See you on the other side!

Yesterday we visited our first Curio Market! Outside the EastPark Mall there were about 15 vendors selling a variety of items – carved wooden animals, acrylic and oil paintings, chitenge clothing, and much more. While Jeff, Cade, and Taylor went inside the mall to get Zambian SIM cards, we had the hour to explore the market. Most of us entered feeling excited to view the trinkets and meet new Zambians. We exited feeling a wide range of emotions – overwhelmed, confused, and curious.

I spent the whole hour in the market and was the last of us Zags to leave. And if you know me, then you know that taking my sweet time and often being the last is a trait of mine. I’ve learned to accept being the tortoise. Yet, it was easy to take so much time because for each booth you were bound to spend at least ten minutes talking with the vendor.

A common start to the interaction would be, “Hey sister, my name is Chris, what’s yours?” And we would shake hands and he would proceed to show me his artwork. Me being me would ask a lot of questions. I tend to also do that. “What’s this made of? How long did it take you to make it? What’s your favorite piece of artwork to make? Etc.” Of course, the vendors want you to buy something after spending so much time talking and they also have advanced sales tactics, and I mean advanced. Most of the time however, we just wanted to look around. As for my exit strategy, the first four vendors I was able to leave without purchasing an item by saying, “no, thank you.” The last vendor I talked with, however, swayed me to purchase a couple items and get a “deal.” This seemed like the only possible way to get out of the stall. Then exiting the entire market, I replied to the many “hello’s” by saying, “I need to find my group. It is time to go.” So, while it seemed easy to enter conversation, the consequence was that it was extremely hard to say “no” to the vendor and to leave.

This wonderful group of zags, we are “yes” people. We said yes to coming on this trip! Yes to the unknown, to the uncomfortable, and the long travel days. (I say this as we are sitting on a ten hour bus ride to Livingstone with the windows open and ZamSip yogurts being passed around.) Cade only had a week to prepare and he even, with much gratitude, said yes.

We as a group are learning that saying no is hard. Many of us would consider ourselves people pleasers and don’t want to be seen as rude or demanding. We value empathy and the act of being relational. But, we are also learning that saying no is totally okay, is often necessary, and is a key form of self respect. The specifics of boundaries, of how, when, and why to say no, we are still figuring out. There will be many more times during the next month where we will encounter and decide this. For example, we already know we will be visiting another Curio Market and apparently the market we visited in Lusaka was our training ground… Today even, we had an opportunity to practice navigating this. What does it look like to say no to a random person who we have no relationship with, asking for money? Looking forward to continue growing. As Lily and the Lorax sang on the long bus ride today, “Let it grow.”

Now for some family messages:

From Sam – Happy birthday Meggie! Drivers watch out!

From Lily – Happy birthday Mom! I love you!

From myself – Hugs to my wonderful family and friends. Love you to the moon and back.

• Lauryn Anderson (Class of 2028)

During my time at Gonzaga, I have always felt somewhat self-conscious for choosing a school so close to home. For those of you who don’t know, I grew up 25 minutes North of Gonzaga’s campus, and as many of you know, ties to Gonzaga not only dominate Spokane, but they infiltrate places all over the United States. In many ways, choosing Gonzaga meant accepting the perspective of the world that I had known my whole life. This was particularly concerning for me because I still believe that moving away for at least a short time is fundamental for someone to begin to shift their perspectives away from what they have been conditioned to know as “normal.”

After my first semester of college, I was convinced that I hated Gonzaga. I didn’t feel like I had any friends, which made being stuck in Spokane feel so much worse, but what started as sitting in the uncomfortable soon transformed into the most intentional community I have ever been a part of. I experienced this same parallel during my time in Zambezi last year. Initially, I found it difficult to find my place in the group. Not only did I not know any Zambians, I also hadn’t met any of my fellow Zags. I questioned every conversation I had, thinking that surely the only reason these people are nice to me is because they know I don’t have any friends. When I struggled to connect with Zambians and inevitably ended up talking about the weather, I didn’t feel like I had place enough in the group to express how deeply confused I was and how incapable I felt, even though we were all experiencing the same thing. Despite my time in Zambia feeling uncomfortable all the time, it is ultimately this experience that led me to recognizing the importance of home. In one of my final Zambezi reflections last year, I wrote: Not everyone is your family, but you can find family everywhere. I know this sounds really cliché, but the principle that this speaks has come to shape the ways I have grown not only in Zambia, but at Gonzaga as a whole. My time in Zambia taught me that connection requires a lot of failure, but there are good people everywhere, some places just require a bit more digging than others. Sometimes it is hard, and sometimes it is easy, we are flawed humans after all. Ultimately, when we let each other into our heart is when we find belonging.

As I come to terms with the fact that I will be returning from this trip to a different Spokane than I left, I know that I have a little piece of home all across the country. I have a home in Jacksonville and in Eu Claire. I have a home in Bellevue and a home on Oahu. I have a home in Martinez and I have a home on Indonesia. I have a home in all the people that have carried me.

After “graduating” one week ago, I was asked countless times if I was excited to graduate. To be honest, I wasn’t. I was deeply sad that all of my friends would go from being scattered across the Logan to being scattered across the world, and I was confused as to how I would process all of this sudden change in my life in a single weekend. While I feel like graduating was pulling my heart in a million different directions, sitting in SeaTac settled my nerves when I realized that Zamfam ’26 feels like home. This group is nothing but pure joy and excitement for the experience. They think and feel deeply for their surroundings and sit in the complexity. Through the inevitable nerves, doubt, and hesitation, this group has already displayed deep curiosity and reflection for what we are encountering. It turns out that not every piece of my Gonzaga home has been pulled from me quite yet.

On the plane, I sat by a Zambian woman. Like many other Zambians I have met, she has spent her whole life in the same place. In this instance, this place is Lusaka. She told me how much she loved where she was from and that she is proud to be Zambian. I began to remember that my time in Zambia last year began to shift my thoughts about staying close to home. I thought of how Brudas, a PT at the Zambezi District Hospital, told me how proud he was to be from Zambezi and how deeply committed he is to growing the community. It is stories like these that shifted my perspective of staying in Spokane. I have come to realize how lucky I am to have a place that I can confidently call home. Not only is Fairview the weird street that I drive on to get to my Grandma’s house, it is also the name of my favorite pizza at my favorite restaurant. Not only is Waikiki Springs where I would hammock during Covid, it also borders Bozarth, where I have forged some of my most special retreat memories at Gonzaga. Not only is Whitehouse the street I call home, it is also the running route for Gonzaga’s cross country team. I am lucky to have a true home, somewhere that will grow alongside me as my own perspectives of the world are challenged. Today, Cade read us a quote from Dr. Kenneth Kaunda, “Do not become so wrapped in your studies that you forget the people from whom you have sprung…education is of little value if you lose the human touch.” I am formed to better the place that has formed me.

Today we toured UNZA and had our first curio market experiences. As the group challenged ideas of privilege and discomfort, I couldn’t help but feel honored to accompany them on this journey. One moment from today made me particularly excited because it was a moment that I knew would kickstart how truly welcoming Zambians are. When we were touring UNZA, Jeff was asking for directions to the library. This brief interaction led to an hour-long tour from professor Trevor Mwansa, a sacrifice that I wouldn’t have understood last year, and that I can only describe now as one of the reasons Zambia feels like home.

Home is welcoming. Home is belonging, regardless of where you are coming from. Home is community. Home is connection. Home is presence. Home is dedication to steward those around you.

I am beyond excited to accompany Zamfam ’26 as they come to see why Zambia has become somewhere that feels like home. Yes, home for me is deeply rooted in Spokane, but my time at Gonzaga has also taught me that my home is found in the people that I let into my heart whether they are lending me clothes after losing my luggage or reading the blog knowing that they too are growing from the experiences that will shape my perspectives.

Taylor Mularski

Zamfam ‘25, + ’26

Mom + Dad + Family: I hope you enjoy reading the blogs, there are going to be some great ones coming. Sorry for the lack of pictures of me, since my phone works I have been the one behind the camera. Don’t worry though, I am still in the same outfit that you dropped me off in, so you can use your imagination.

Zamfam ’25: Thank you for shaping my experiences in Zambia so well. I keep reflecting back on our trip; so grateful that you all carried me through. Also, I got my first glimpse of the giraffe constellation tonight!

Unit 2: I hope some of you are reading this, and I am still in denial that I will not be returning to the townhouse in June. I miss you all so much, and I hope that Sammamish, Alaska, and Wisconsin are treating you well!

Twenty-some odd hours in planes, thousands of miles travelled across two continents and two oceans, some serious sleep deprivation, and a lost bag upon our arrival in Zambia…, but we are finally here and the adventure has officially started! Everyone on the team was nothing short of phenomenal – displaying attitudes of grace, flexibility, and unwavering enthusiasm in the midst of the challenges of travel (a big shout out to Taylor for responding so well to the loss of her bag). And now that we’re finally on the ground, the same gracious attitudes, along with a real spirit of Zag helpfulness (and humor) continue to shine out even more brightly in the lives of our student team members

Even packing into a rental bus like sardines in a can (check out those smiles) or funky showers with no hot water at our Lusaka hostel (kudos to you Noah) can’t dampen the enthusiasm and obvious sense of enjoyment among us (just check out those radiant smiles). Even more importantly, even though it’s only been one day, we’re already beginning to fall in love with the Zambian people. Thank you Carttess, C-5 Eucharia, and Father Sydney Lubinda for sharing your light with us this afternoon and at dinner tonight. With people like you as our teachers and a month of ‘in-country” opportunities to learn from in front of us, may our time here in Zambia end up being the stuff of real and lasting transformation. The flame has been lit. Now let it be nurtured in us both by what we glean from the experience as well as by what we give. May it grow and spread in our hearts and may we never be the same as a result.

Cade Christensen
English Language Center

If you’ve read this blog at any point over the last 19 years, you have likely done so to follow along as a loved one or friend embarks on a journey to learn about, from, and alongside the community of Zambezi. As significant as that learning can be for many students, a past traveler on this program recently reminded a group of us who’ve taught in Zambezi that a fundamental purpose of our presence in the community is to focus on truly being with the residents of Zambezi we meet.

We will be departing with the 2026 group in two weeks, and this reminder has been on my mind. During the upcoming Gonzaga-in-Zambezi trip, we will undoubtedly be engaged in knowledge and culture exchanges as we travel in Zambia and Zambezi, and the blog will certainly be a space to share about those kinds of observations and experiences. At the same time, I look forward to leaning into the work of being in present and attentive community with a group of 18 Zags who will experience Zambia for the first time. And, I look forward to this blog being a space where you can read about that work.

This will all begin to take shape as we depart Seattle on May 14. Please check by this space again soon after then. We are excited to share this journey with you!

Now that this part of our journey is wrapping up, I am sad to note that this will be the last blog post for Gonzaga-in-Zambezi 2025. It feels like a lot of pressure, but I hope this does it justice!

To be so completely honest to the strangers that read this blog, I was terrified in the weeks leading up to this trip — terrified of meeting so many new people, terrified I would not form meaningful relationships, and terrified in my lack of knowledge of what the Zambezi community would be like. Now, looking back on those feelings, I can’t help but laugh. This community that I was so scared of meeting has become my second home these past 3 weeks. The people of Zambezi have welcomed us with open arms, hearts of excitement and gratitude, compassion for our lack of Luvale/Lunda knowledge and love for more of God’s people. With all that they have shown us, the best thing this community has offered to us is teaching what true accompaniment is.

In my previous blog post, I focused on human connection and wrote “connections don’t have to be some grand gesture, and oftentimes are formed in moments we don’t notice or remember”. The same can be said about accompaniment. Within our group of 18 zags, we have lived by accompanying in the quiet moments — as we walked to the Zambezi River to watch the sunset, trudging through the sand on our way to the market, and the loving glances when someone’s “person” comments on the blog.

Every time my parents comment on the blog (hi you two) and their names are read aloud, I know the tears are coming. It’s become a little joke when they comment now, as all of the zags turn to look at me when their names are read, and I try my best to make it 5 whole seconds before crying. The truest form of accompaniment I have felt is in those moments, when inevitably the zags who chose to sit next to me offer an arm rub, hand squeeze or a hug.

Every year, on one of the last nights in Zambezi, Gonzaga students are asked to invite a person that has accompanied them throughout their time to “The Accompaniment Dinner”. Guests are invited for a night of yummy food, trivia questions, and lots of photos to remember the smiles of our favorite Zambian people!

My dinner guest was a young man named Musoka, who was an A+ student in our English class. He showed up to every class at least 10 minutes early, with a giant smile on his face, eager to learn more from what we had to offer. On the first day of class, Musoka showed up with his arm completely bandaged from his wrist to his elbow, I was concerned about what had happened. He shared with me, Sarah, Natalie and Becca that he had gotten hit on the forearm by an iron bar. He said it so calmly that I was slightly thrown off, but his calm presence became something I continued to gravitate towards throughout the 3 weeks of classes. For the final project in our English class, we asked our students to write a 1.5-2 page paper, reflecting on an object that held significance to their life and who they were as a person. Musoka wrote a detailed and emotional piece about a picture frame being his item and how this ties back to his late mother as it holds a special photo of her. He taught me accompaniment through the way he trusted us in teaching him, but also the way he trusted us with his raw and emotional story.

As much as Musoka is AWESOME, there are so many other awesome people we have met during our time. So, here are short highlights of each person our ZamFam invited to the accompaniment dinner:

Grace is a teacher at Chilenga, who Carly said practiced accompaniment by trusting Carly’s ability to teach her 2nd graders, guiding Carly through teaching in an unfamiliar environment and language, and sharing the wisdom that comes from being an experienced teacher.

Nathan accompanied Kamy by sharing nursing school advice and providing opportunities for the health students to grow and learn more about Zambian healthcare.

Steve was my and Cate’s homestay host-dad! Cate felt he accompanied her by educating us on Zambian culture while teaching us the importance of letting loose through music and dance. (We danced A LOT)

Monica is a teacher at Zambezi Boarding who accompanied through trusting Caroline M., Katy and Mia to teach the secondary computer class, reassuring them of her trust, which helped increase Caroline’s confidence in teaching.

Mary is one of the local tailors, who Sean felt accompanied as they sat and chatted many times, instead of making it a transactional relationship. Their relationship was bound tight as Sean learned her life story and what motivates her.

Becca felt accompanied by Mercy and Andrew, two English teachers at Zambezi Boarding, as she learned about teaching in a Zambian secondary school and was given the opportunity to step into their classroom.

Eunice showed accompaniment as she warmly welcomed Alea into her home for her homestay and made her feel truly welcomed in Zambezi.

Nancy and Trinity are the sweet women who have helped us with our laundry and keeping the convent clean throughout our stay. Sarah felt accompanied as she and Nancy sat and did laundry together, as well as when she and Trinity hung out in her room as Trinity cleaned.

Ruben and Francis work in the hospital’s lab, and Sloane felt accompanied as they took the health students in and taught them more about procedures. They created a safe, inviting and fun environment that helped the group learn more about health care.

Katy met Charity randomly in the market, and they ran into each other a handful of times during our stay in Zambezi. Katy felt accompanied as she was invited into Charity’s close community and space, as well as through Charity’s willingness to always talk.

John accompanied the business class way before we even arrived to Zambezi as he worked to promote the class and do the heavy lifting on the administrative side of the class. Mia felt accompanied when John would show up everyday to class, not to help teach but to watch and support silently.

Dr. Clayton is the main doctor at the Zambezi District hospital, and Ellie felt accompanied as he allowed the health students to follow him around the building, making sure they were informed and up to speed on each patient they saw.

Piper met Mwangala while exploring the market, and felt accompanied as they chatted about lives and the difference in experiences due to the age gap.

Brudas is a physical therapist that Taylor has been shadowing at the hospital. Taylor felt accompanied as Brudas made the experience very hands on and truly ensured the health students learned.

Ester was one of the first Zambians that Kathleen met organically, and she invited her and Sean to sit in the backyard of her house. Kathleen felt accompanied as they chilled and chatted, while appreciating the company and music around.

Natalie felt that Arnold was the first person she had an actually deep conversation with. She felt accompanied in his willingness to sit and teach Natalie about the deeper meanings behind some of Zambia’s cultural practices.

Ephraim is an ophthalmologist whom Jeff met when taking James (the tailor, NOT our James) for a check-up appointment. Jeff saw accompaniment in the selfless way that Ephraim consulted James on his eye issue, with no expectation of being paid and instead chose to use his expertise to serve someone in his community.

James felt that, with Winifrida, the accompaniment was a two-way street as the health students got to accompany her on her visits with her HIV/AIDS counseling patients.

Chipego was a new-to-Zambezi student in the business class last year that Lucia got to know, teach and accompany. Yet, in this past year, the two have grown, and now can accompany each other in learning and teaching each other more about Zambezi and the broader community.

These community members, who come from all different walks of life and around Zambezi, have shown us hands-on what true accompaniment looks and feels like — trusting others in our spaces, offering a comfortable silence to sit in, and sharing knowledge and life experiences with one another. We truly could not do this trip without this community and their selfless accompaniment. As we sat at around for “The Accompaniment Dinner,” I felt the comforting love that emotes from each person we brought; a testament to the power of accompaniment and how deep of an impact a small gesture or moment can have.

There is an African proverb from one of our readings that says “The stranger who returns from a journey may tell all he has seen, but he cannot explain all”… I pray that this blog has given our families, friends and everyone we love, a little more insight into the journey and transformations that occurred through accompaniment during Gonzaga-In-Zambezi 2025!

ZamFam 2025 – Thank you for accompanying me on this trip, I couldn’t have done it without your support to lean on. I’ll see you in the fall, chindeles!

Mom and Dad – Please don’t forget to pick me up from Oakland Airport. Love you!

Lots of love, gratitude and peace,

Caroline Oromchian
School of Education, Class of 2028

About a week ago, us ZamZags had the amazing opportunity to visit Chipego’s farm and help him transplant his cabbage and rape sprouts. Chipego, a man who attended classes last year and this year, has transformed the land outside his home into a beautifully fenced farm with multiple different types of veggies. Witnessing the growth of his crops we were transplanting was a powerful reminder of the potential for growth. This experience set the tone for the rest of my time in Zambezi, and showed the importance of growth and transformation in all aspects of life.

Coming on this trip, all of us had room to grow. Whether that be in conversational skills, living with others in a group setting, learning how to teach adults, living in an unfamiliar place, or so much more every single one of us had room for growth. In one of our classes leading up to this experience around February one of the questions Jeff asked as an icebreaker to the class is, “What is an area of yourself that you would like to work on while in Zambezi?” in the months leading up to this experience, I remember this question and constantly tried to think of a way to grow while in Zambezi. It wasn’t that I had a lack of idea ideas for where I wanted to grow, it was more that I had so many ideas for where I wanted to see myself grow that it was overwhelming. 

Since in Zambezi, I have seen growth in all types of ways, from the growth of Chipego’s cabbage and rape sprouts, to the growth of every single member of the 2025 Zags in Zambezi. When thinking about this, I decided to ask everybody where they feel that they have seen growth in themselves throughout the trip. Although everybody had a different answer, one prevalent theme in the responses was that everybody feels that they have grown in their relationship-building skills, as well as becoming comfortable in the uncomfortable.

For those who have been reading the blog since the beginning, you may remember the “Gumby” analogy I shared. Well on trip such as this one it is so important to remain “Gumby” as that is when the true growth happens. Being flexible and open to new experiences allows us to adapt and learn from every situation we come across. This mindset has been extremely important in this journey, and has allowed us to embrace the challenges and opportunities that come our way.

Starting with the community, our English class group has seen remarkable growth in reading, writing, and speaking skills. Through experiences and projects planned by zags, members of the adult English class have become more confident in our ability to communicate in English. One of the highlights in my group was when one of my students, Richard, grew from not even knowing his letter sounds at the start of the class, to being able to write and read his life story. The audio recording below is Richard’s final recording of his life story, which both he and I were extremely proud of.

One of the most significant areas of growth for our group has been in feeling comfortable talking with locals. Initially, the language and cultural differences made it challenging to connect. However, through consistent interaction and a willingness to learn, we have built meaningful relationships with the Zambezi community. These connections have enriched our experience and provided valuable insights into their way of life. The ability to communicate and form bonds with locals has been a transformative experience and has given us a sense of belonging and understanding.

Our journey of growth has also been seen through individual growth stories that reflect the diverse ways in which we have all evolved. Although I don’t have enough space to acknowledge the growth of all of the Zags, here are a few: Alea, along with several other group members, had never taught in a classroom setting to adults. Through this trip, they have grown into amazing teachers, adapting to the needs of their students and finding creative ways to teach them. Natalie acknowledges that she has become more comfortable with the unknown and with being vulnerable, which has allowed her to embrace new experiences and learn from them. Sloane says that she has learned that it’s okay to ask questions, even if they seem “dumb.” This mindset has helped her expand her knowledge while working in the hospital and exploring a new place. 

Becca’s experience at the hospital, witnessing the impact of malaria on a young girl and her mother, put everything into perspective for her. She learned that hurt and joy can coexist. Cate has turned discomfort into something positive, such as her experience at Dipalata, embracing new experiences and finding joy in the unknown. Sean has discovered what “humanizing” someone looks and feels like, understanding that the world is far more beautifully complicated and human than most of us recognize. Mia has grown in her ability to navigate new environments and find comfort in the unfamiliar. Katy has learned when to lean in instead of pushing away or secluding herself, discovering that it’s okay to take time for herself. Sarah has gained the ability to create and hold conversations with adults, opening up new opportunities for her. Lucia has grown in her ability to adapt to new situations and find joy in the process.

As I mentioned, when Jeff asked, “What area of yourself would you like to work on while in Zambezi?” I had many ideas of how I planned to grow on this trip. I personally have discovered the importance of leaning into discomfort and finding growth in challenging situations. Additionally, I have learned how to teach to a class of 55 students when I had only ever taught around 30 at most. Which, trust me, was quite difficult. On a more serious note, this trip has allowed me to grow in a mental way. I have anxiety and a trip where I don’t know the plan, am in an unfamiliar place, and don’t know anyone was quite anxiety-inducing. Events such as traveling from the Lunda to Luvale side of the river caused me quite a bit of anxiety as I have always had a fear of boats (especially small ones). However, I pushed myself to get on the canoe and am happy I did. Additionally, since coming out last year, I had never traveled to a country that has clear anti-LGBTQ+ laws and was very nervous that I would be disliked by both the group and the Zambezi community. But, to my surprise the few Zambians that found out about my relationship while on this trip were curious rather than hateful. 

As we reflect on our journey in Zambezi, we are filled with gratitude for the opportunities that have allowed us to grow and learn. We are excited to share our experiences and the lessons we have learned with you everyone at home. Thank you for being a part of our growth from the moment we committed to this trip to the moment we reunite! We can’t wait to see you soon! As Jeff said at our accompaniment dinner last night, we are all “sad to be leaving but happy to be going.”

To my Mama, Dada, and sister, thank you for all the support you have given me while on the trip as well as before leaving. I can’t wait to see you soon!

To my cousin Dakota, I hope you had an amazing graduation! I wish I could have been there! Grandma and your mom would have been so proud of you!

To Perry, I miss you so much and can’t wait to see you soon! I hope you have had so much fun in Chimfunchi and I can’t wait to compare experiences! I love you!

See you soon!

Carly Fassio – Class of 2027
Gonzaga School of Education

Wild Geese | Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Last summer during my final night in Zambezi, we spent this time writing notes to everyone in our group. Jeff Dodd, in his note to me, wrote “Read Wild Geese by Mary Oliver when you’re ready – it will touch you.”

It took me about two weeks after returning home to finally Google Wild Geese. When I did read the poem, I just bawled. I read it, and my stomach twisted and turned and then settled. It gave shape to a feeling that had always been there, now finally put into words in a moment of coming home. Once again, I felt something I had known since I was young: a deep connection to humanity. Zambia had opened that journey even further, and now I finally had words for it.

In Zambezi, this connection often comes through humanity’s beautiful interruptions, the unexpected moments that call us to pay attention, to sit down, to share space. And in that moment back home, I found myself pausing in the middle of a hot Spokane day, letting myself be interrupted, just how I had in Zambezi. I stopped striving, I stopped rushing, and I simply let the words of Wild Geese interrupt me with Oliver’s quiet truth. That pause, that stillness, was a return to everything Zambezi taught me: to be open, to be present, to be human.

I feel deeply honored to write on this blog once again and even more so to share in the Zambezi experience with the ZamFam 2025. The day I got the call from Jeff asking if I wanted to join this trip was, coincidentally, the same day I had recalled something my spiritual director once said: “Be interruptible.” In Zambezi, being “interruptible” feels like a natural rhythm, one that contrasts sharply with the pace of life in the United States. When Jeff asked, I said YES. And in that moment, I was flooded with gratitude for my previous experience in Zambia, which taught me how to pause, to accompany, and to be interruptible when humanity calls.

In Zambezi, I feel myself called into a place of pause, a space where we breathe in and out and rest in the stillness between. That pause is where humanity is invited in. It’s where we soften into the animal of our bodies and love what it loves. It’s also where we can be interrupted, lovingly and abundantly, harshly and unexpectedly. In my faith tradition, Jesus calls me to be interruptible. Time and again, when we allow ourselves to be interrupted and called beyond ourselves, we find space to take refuge in the cave of our hearts, a space where humanity longs to see and know itself. In that recognition, we are brought closer to our divine selves.

In Zambezi, this invitation becomes real. Life moves differently here, not according to rigid schedules or expectations but through presence, relationship, and what we might see as an interruption as a sacred invitation, an opening to connection, grace, and shared humanity. Conversations on the dusty roads back from or to the market, unexpected invitations into homes, or moments of shared laughter and stillness all feel like sacred pauses or intuitions, opportunities to be drawn out of ourselves and into deeper connection. In Zambezi, I am reminded that being interruptible is not a disruption to the journey, it is the journey.

So here I am! Lucia Doty is on the journey again! 

About a week ago, I was delighted to reunite with two of my favorite humans in Zambezi: Chi Chi and Priscilla. These two girls are truly rays of light and continue to introduce me to Zambezi in new and beautiful ways. A couple of days after we reunited, I remembered it was Chi Chi’s birthday, so we decided to plan a little outing, wandering through the market together, walking around, and of course, picking up some chocolate.

As we began our journey, I was once again in awe of the way these girls navigate the market. It shouldn’t surprise me, this is their home, but still, the sheer number of people they greet and wave to amazes me. Right as we left the convent, Chi Chi waved to a woman standing outside her home and said, “That’s my Auntie.” I smiled and replied, “I want to meet people too. Will you introduce me next time?”

I should’ve known that invitation would open the door to a long, joy-filled day together. We made our way through the market, with the occasional “chindele” called out in my direction. Chi Chi and Priscilla made sure to tell me that no one is taunting or embarrassing me. “We just have to laugh,” Chi Chi said. “It’s all play.” And so we laughed together. Later, Chi Chi brought me to meet her mom, who owns a hair salon in town. It was such a blessing to meet her and to tell her how much I love her daughter.

Once we had made our rounds, Priscilla turned to me and said it was time to go back to their homes for dinner and that I was invited. I walked with her and the other girls to her house, where I was warmly welcomed by Priscilla’s grandmother, who was sitting on a mat outside cracking groundnuts. I then met Priscilla’s mom, who greeted me with a big smile and a hug. She noticed her daughter nibbling on some of the chocolate we’d bought, and I suddenly felt foolish for arriving empty-handed.

Quickly, I pulled the extra Cadbury bar from my fanny pack, and I saw her eyes light up. Without words, she motioned for us to trade: the chocolate bar for a bag of groundnuts. I happily agreed.

After that, Chi Chi waved us over to her house, conveniently located right next door to her side kick and best friend Priscilla. She welcomed me inside and, in true Zambian fashion, motioned for me to sit right next to her older sister Dorothy and Dorothy’s 6-month-old baby, Precious. Dorothy was eating nshima, chicken, and rape (a leafy green), and just as I settled in, Priscilla came up to me with a pitcher of warm water and a bowl so I could wash my hands. Accepting this simple act of care, what felt like radical hospitality, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Before I could blink, a full plate of nshima, chicken, and rape was placed in front of me.

As I sat and ate, I began chatting with Dorothy. We talked about her job as a midwife, her hopes for her wedding, the loss of her father, how many children she wants, and even how going through childbirth for her went. I showed her photos of my boyfriend, Alex, my college roommates, and my family. We talked about how I am excited to move to a new city and my excitement about graduating from university.

And through it all, Dorothy kept looking me straight in the eye and saying, “Eat more.”

So I did, hesitantly at first, because I honestly wasn’t hungry. But there I was, stuffing my face with nshima and sharing a chicken bone with Dorothy. This was communion. This was the Welcome Table, where we sit side by side, share what we have, and remember what it means to be human.

In this case, being fully human for me means taking a seat at what my favorite theologian Dr. Shawn Copeland has described as the Welcome Table. The Welcome Table where all are welcome. The Welcome Table embodies the shared endeavor of understanding what it means to be human and invites humans to cultivate a relationality rooted in solidarity and accompaniment, rather than in roles, binaries, or hierarchies. This requires a mindset that takes embodiment seriously, honors diversity of many cultures, and centers on mutual accompaniment. In Zambia this second time, why not open up our understanding of humanity to a broader process, one that is going on consciously and unconsciously in people’s daily lives, amid the “ordinary” things that make up the fabric of our lives. In Zambezi, this is the rhythm. Priscilla, Chi Chi, and Dorothy welcomed me into their rhythm of life so seamlessly. 

Alex, my guy, thank you for your love and support through my decision process to come. You have been my rock as I have navigated this journey again. I love you! You are so awesome and I can’t wait to reunite. 

To my Mom, Dad and George, thank you thank you thank you for all your love and support as I have made the choice to go on this journey of human life again. I miss spending time with you all. Everyday there are people here that remind me of all of you. I have the best family ever. I am so grateful.

To my whole extended family! I can not wait to see you all soon.

All my beautiful friends. I love you. You know who you are.

My ZamFam 2024, thank you all for making my experience so enriching that I was eager to come back again. Like Emily said, even back here again, I still can’t put it exactly into words what my first go around meant to me. I love that part of it though. I love you all so much and everyday I am reminded of the community we built. I am forever grateful. 

Love,

Lucia Doty (Loosh)

Zambia TA 2025

Hello, my name is Katendi Sengevu. I am Gonzaga’s cultural mentor and I live with the students. I help cook with the students and make sure students feel comfortable. I was born in Chingola in the Copperbelt Province. I came to Zambezi in 1992. My parents are both Lunda. I grew up at home speaking Lunda and then at school and with my friends I would speak Bemba.

I started working at Gonzaga in 2007. Before Gonzaga, I used to help with the Church duties at Our Lady of Fatima Parish. I would help with the cleaning and getting flowers set up. The priest, Father Javier, helped me and asked if I wanted to cook for the Americans! I was excited but nervous to cook for the Americans. It was a challenge because I did not know how to speak English, so I thought, “how am I going to work.” But the priest encouraged me to prepare American dishes. And I have learned so much, like speaking English and cooking from Josh and the students! In 2007, I was very nervous. I remember the first day, I thought to myself, “it is the first time I will meet the Chindeles.” I was too shy and that was difficult for me. It took me about four years to start to really get English and to be confidently cooking with the students. In the 4^th year I would then be able to cook alone and learned to prepare so many different dishes. My favorite dish to make is Thai chicken. Shawna (Josh’s wife) taught me to make Thai chicken. A young man named David taught me to make fried chicken and how to fry chicken skin.

One of my favorite memories with the Gonzaga students is going to Dipalata. I love when we sit outside around the fire, singing, and dancing and meeting up with old friends. I also always have a good time with Gonzaga students during meals. And I love the Gonzaga students because they love us mamas. They respect us. They are a bit loud (especially this group). I also love to go to the market with the Zags, shopping, and having fun together. I love to cook with the Zags in the kitchen and learning new recipes.

After I started working for Gonzaga, I went back to school, at grade 10 where I left off, in 2016. I was in school for grades 10, 11, 12 and finished. I was doing evening classes and working. I just started dreaming and admiring the Gonzaga students. Then I completed in 2018. I had never thought about going back to school if it were not for Gonzaga. Because of Gonzaga, my life is easier. I also started selling some products, such as bags and decorations, to Gonzaga students. My late mom used to knit, and I asked Josh if I could sell to the students. My family also has been good because of the Gonzaga team. I am able to educate my children, and they are able to finish college.

Before Gonzaga I was too shy, unable to stand up and speak at work and at church, but now I am. In Zambezi, some women looked down on me because of my divorce. But now, I don’t let people look down on me. Now I have learned that I do not have to be quiet. I know my rights! People can’t treat me with disrespect. Some women think that when a man leaves you, you have no value. It was very difficult for me, but now I am a happy person, I take care of myself even if I am a single mother. In 2015 my ex-husband tried to come back, but I said no. For me I always thought to myself “No! I will not fail without a man!”

When I was in my early 20s, I went through a Lunda tradition of back scarring. This tradition is for young women in some Lunda communities. It is a pattern of scars to mark a woman at different life events. It caused me a lot of pain, and so in the future I would like to become a grandmother and to become an advocate for women because of what I have gone through. I want them to know that this is not okay. African tradition is strict and harsh on women, so I want in the future to do a short course at school and learn how to get connected to women. And I want to learn more skills because I would love to teach my children and friends how as women we do not need to depend on men. Mostly women in Zambia they do not have skills, so I would love to learn more skills and teach my fellow women so they can learn and be independent and not be dependent on abusive husbands.

If I were to pick 3 words to describe me, I would say, I am a strong woman, I am intelligent, I am humble, I am beautiful. I am a hardworking woman and I want all my children to go to school. And I’m proud of myself. Gonzaga is like a sun which has come to shine and has opened my mind and my heart. I am now able to think and do what I was not able to.

Kisu kisu,
Katendi Sengevu

As I sit down to try and craft another beautifully written blog post to follow in the footsteps my fellow Zam Fam, I feel overwhelmed by the amount of stories, conversations and little moments interacting with the community of Zambezi that I want to share. As I’m sure you can understand I’m finding it really difficult to encapsulate all that’s happened while we’ve been living here over the last two and a half weeks.

Three larger ideas come to mind as I reflect on my journey in Zambia. Embracing the unknown and the ways it creates space for growth, nostalgia for the present, and an inability to fully process this “life changing experience”.

Growing up, my family and I embarked on many adventures. My parents enjoyed bringing me and my brothers to random nooks and crannies around Oregon and the west coast. These random adventures consisted of many, “are we there yet?” and “Where are we even going, what’s happening?” questions, to which my parents would usually respond, “don’t worry, you’re going to love it,” and “it’s like right around the corner”. It was definitely not right around the corner, but was always a great time. Always an adventure filled with so many memories. Embracing the unknown during these moments always created a positive outcome.

Our first week in Zambia, I think I lost sight of that. We are a chatty bunch of 17 girls + Sean, and we are full of many questions and anxieties, myself included. I wanted to know what to expect, what was happening next and what the plan was for the next day. Lucia quickly reminded me in Livingstone that these kinds of answers I was fishing for were never going to be satisfactory enough and that I might as well just embrace. And since then I have embraced all the unknowns that come with day-to-day life in Zambia. Embracing the unknown has created far more room for my own personal growth throughout my time in Zambezi and for what will come tomorrow.

Embracing the unknown feels especially relevant walking into the Zambezi District hospital every day. With the care they are providing and the lack of resources they have the work these nurses, doctors, and volunteers do is extremely difficult and hasn’t gone unnoticed. I’ve built a relationship with one of the head nurses in the maternity ward named Elizabeth. Each day I walk into the ward, she welcomes me with open arms and offers me a place to sit in the back of her crammed office filled with other nurses doing paperwork or HIV tests on newborns. In the maternity ward there are eight beds for mothers that either just gave birth or are needing more attentive care. If you walk through that room there is the labor room with two beds that have always been empty each day I come. But June 2nd was different. Kamy, Becca and I walked in and two women were taking up the beds, I quickly asked Elizabeth how long they had been in; she said one of them had been in labor all night and both came in a couple hours prior. Miriam was the name of the woman in active labor, 7cm dilated experiencing contractions and vomiting as we just sat in the back office only 2 feet away as Elizabeth had me try her sweet potato, “the best African potato”. Miriam had nobody with her, no mother, no husband, no sisters, no friends allowed in this small dark room with her, just by herself as she prepares to give birth to her first child. I wanted to be present with Elizabeth as she tried to joke and make conversation about the delicious potato, but I couldn’t help but think about what Miriam was going through lying on that bed with only a black tarp and her chitenge. No blanket, no pillow. But I continued to embrace this moment, looking at Kamy and Becca, and hoping we would be able to experience Miriam giving birth. After about an hour Elizabeth got her gloves on and said “let’s deliver this baby”. As we stood there observing, feeling quite helpless, I felt tears watering up in my eyes, in awe of what was about to happen. Miriam showed immense strength, pushing four times with no screams, and hardly any noise. Just a pure badass. And just like that at 11:09am, the baby girl was born. Her cries made me cry. I couldn’t believe what I just witnessed. Miriam was instantly separated from her baby not even given a moment to embrace her daughter’s face. I got to spend more time staring at that beautiful girls face for the first 10 minutes of her life than her mother did. Still not quite sure how to feel about that.

As Miriam pulled back the curtain behind her head, her family stood right there jumping with smiles and joy. Embracing the unknown on this day reminded me that everyday is filled with a new journey.

Another theme is the feeling of being nostalgic for the present, constantly wanting to relive the moment that just happened, wishing I could go back. This feeling always comes to me in the little moments. While I find the so called “big” moments to be incredible, I find so much joy in the little everyday moments that have made this experience what it is. Whether that be the embrace of Mama Kristin’s love exchanging few words just standing there hugging one another or chatting before bed under our mosquito nets as Taylor, Caroline, and I give each other “convent nicknames,” or the way our students in the health class get eager to share what they’ve learned with the rest of the class, or the way Jeff rolls his eyes at me and I make a snarky remark back (he usually laughs) —I’ll take it as a compliment. Others that stick out right now are the way we enter any store or home and the first thing we are told is “you are free, you are welcome here”, or the heads of the munchkins as they sneak their heads over the wall or the way we got to witness Winifrida interacting with her HIV patients while doing outreach work. These rather “small” or mundane moments are ones I hope to cherish and hold onto forever but I’m excited to recount all the other stories and moments along the way for the next months and years, and which ones stick out in my kind

A sense of complexity and pressure come with being on a trip that many have considered a “life changing experience” in their lives. Since the moment I heard about the Zambia program, I knew I’d find a way to come and through the support of my parents and the application to a few scholarships here I am. I can now say I am living in what I know and hope to be this life-changing experience. I have yet to process all that has happened and how I will resume life back in the states but that’s a challenge for once I return. I haven’t had the time to decompress; I’ve been busy living in the moment and being present with those I am with. I know there will come a time when I can start to feel all the feels of the moments that make up Zambezi 2025 but I wonder which ones will ends up sticking out the most. I can easily show a photo or recount these moments in time but it will never do justice to the totality of these experiences. The indescribable feeling of watching Dr. Clayton write a death certificate for a sweet 10 year old girl who passed due to severe pneumonia and malaria, or the screams and cries of the 20 women outside the pediatric unit as they dealt with the news of her passing, or even just the calming presence of a mother figure having mama Katendi living in the convent with us.

As much I hope to come back to this incredible town and magical country, this experience has been life changing in the sense that it’s an experience I’ve never had and may never have again. As I wrote this blog, James talked to me about how the way we learn isn’t immediate, but rather we filter it through all of our previous experiences and pre convinced notions of the world. Throwing away those preconceived notions I may have had before coming to Zambia is life changing in itself. Through conversations with my ZamFam and Jeff and James maybe just the words humanize, complicate, and accompany will be the some of the most life changing.

While this is only a glimpse of my personal experience in Zambezi, I hope you have enjoyed a few of the snippets from my time.

I want to say a special thank you to my mom and dad for the love and support in helping me get here and making this experience possible, I miss you more than you know, give Finn and Willy a big hug for me. And to all my girls, Chub, Izzy, Mona Greta Sofi and all the others I sent this blog to, I love you so big, see you very soon.

Ellie Davies
Class of ’27