Frozen in indecision, I stood facing a wall of color and pattern. I’d walked to the market to buy a new chitenge (the traditional dress for the women here), and could not settle my mind on selecting just one to wear during my days here in Zambezi. Individually, the designs of fabric were not appealing to me. I realized that I like them folded on top of each other in a heaping mound of color and pattern and beautifully draped on the women selling cabbage, tomatoes, and chickens. I appreciated the clashing of patterns, the combination and complement of color. Alone, the chitenge is a piece of fabric but collectively they are the colors of Africa.
While here, I have learned that Zambia is a collection of colors, tastes, sights, and smells. Of laughter, crying, rooster, dog bark, church choirs, flowering trees, and sparkling river, sweet sweat, burning bush, red dirt, and white sand. Here one man’s trash is another’s treasure. Nothing is wasted. There is no way to see Zambia without smelling it at the same time. I find beauty and meaning here by appreciating the individual parts in order to better understand the whole picture. As students here in Zambezi we have the opportunity to become pieces of this country.
I feel furthest away from everything I have ever known here, while all the same feeling deep roots to the people, the landscape, the smell, and the colors. The closest comparison I can make to Zambia is to the ocean. Vast, unknown, terrifying, strange, but memorizing, alluring, comforting, familiar, but unpredictable. Living here is like sitting by a campfire. I can’t stop staring, knowing I should draw my eyes away from certain scenes but hoping that if I look long enough I might find meaning to the hardship and the suffering, or to understand the paradox between poverty and happiness. I just want to tell the people that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have to do this work. I’m sorry that your world and your life is so hot and dark and unremembered. I’m sorry for intruding… But this place breaks your heart in all the right ways.
Natalie Gibbons, Class of 2011
Chindeles!
I remember this feeling all too well, and soon enough, you will feel like Zambezi has been your home forever. More people will know your name than you will ever imagine. You will be faced with things that make you uncomfortable, taste things that would not taste good in the United States (like cabbage salad, but trust me, it’ll be good in two weeks!), and will get so dirty along the way. Enjoy every sunrise, hold every hand, and learn to grow through the hardships. Can’t wait for your next blog!
With envy,
Megan Wertman
(Zambezi traveler 2011)
Natalie ~
What a beautiful post! It was so delightful talking with your Mom last week after her expericence in Zambezi. I feel as if I can smell the smells and feel the emotions in your writing. Thank you for sharing what’s in your heart! Wenatchee misses you and we all look forward to our Wenatchee girls returning home sharing stories, love and all the beautiful places your hearts have been touched.
Kim
Hikaru!
That’s the dress you were talking about! Oh so pretty!! And I’m glad there are some good food for you to eat! Your adventure so far sounds so sweet!!! I hope you are enjoying every bit!! I miss you and do proud of you for putting yourself out there!!
Xoxo Sister
Natalie!!
You are continuing to learn the lessons of Zambia. What an incredibly well-written post… I keep scrolling up, wanting to re-read it. Lately I’ve been thinking about that day when we experienced the interesting meal, birth, funeral, moon, sand, and bumpy ride in an open-air pickup bed. I can’t think of those events without hearing your voice talk about it. Keep letting the pulse of Zambezi fill your heart with “one love” 🙂
Kisu Mwane,
Claire
Oh, the classic chitenge dilemma. I remember thinking before I got to Zambia that I would only need a couple and then coming home with eight. By the end of your time there, everyone’s chitenges will be as much a part of themselves as their smiles. What a beautiful metaphor to use to describe Zambia. Africa is such an incredible mix of beauty and pain, and I am both elated and saddened that you are now getting to experience it, Natalie. Don’t apologize for what you have, but be humbled that you have this opportunity to accompany our friends and be a witness to their lives. Change begins with that. I know you will make a difference.
Wishing I was with all of you so I could buy another chitenge,
Neshia
Dear Natalie,
I know I’m emotional missing so much my girl being so far away from home……. but your reflection REALLY touched my heart.
Once more I love the power of WORDS, just few of them allow us to connect to a person on the opposite side of the world….
Love to all this amazing kids….and please give a big hug to Constanza !
Natalie,
Your beautiful post transported back to Zambezi in many ways…I can remember standing in that chintenge shop just off the open-air market that was filled with piles of little dried fishes, caterpillars, tomatoes, pumpkins, and those super strong onions…and, of course, the amazing people of Zambezi. Your analogy of the campfire is so true…even now the memories are still vivid of how the Zambezi people…particularly the women…live out each day. Their perseverance against unspeakable odds and their strength, beauty, and joy will forever be with me as I know it is with you. Your presence speaks volumes as your journey with the people of Zambezi…they are worthy, they have value beyond their circumstances…they do break our hearts in all the right ways.
”What the heart gives away is never gone…it is kept in the hearts of others.” (Unknown)
Kisu Mwane,
Dale