The Paradox Called Zambia

 

The boy is about eight inches shorter than I am, even though he is sixteen.  He hunches his thin shoulders a little; a habit that gives him a humble, distinctive look. He speaks quietly in articulate English.  His button-down shirts are typically a little tight, and his pants a little baggy.  His head is shaved, and his eyelashes are extra-curled.  His smile is wide, perfectly straight, and ready to show itself, hovering at the corners of his lips as though he anticipates the need of it in a moment.  His eyes are spaced a little apart, which draws your attention to them.  As if you could miss them.  He fixes them intently on you; eager, invested, sincere, mature, and dancing a little.

He sidles up to me through the group of students.  I greet him warmly with a Zambian-style handshake and my best “Musana mwane!” I met him on our first visit to Chilena Basic School. I ask him about his lessons, and he draws continents in the sand with his shoe to explain the day’s geography class.  He glances at the pineapple yellow mountain bikes Hikaru and I ride to school, and takes a step closer.

“Can I…can I…?” he says, not forcefully, but hopefully.  How can I refuse the boy with those eyes that shine?

In my memory, I watch his short lap around the sandy schoolyard: triumphant, joyful, simple.

The moment itself is simple, that much is true.  A boy rides a bicycle.  Yet the boy has no father, and is the man of his household.  He struggles to pay his school fees.  And even if he manages to complete Grade 12, what then?  Will he be given the opportunity to attend higher-level education?  Perhaps his words can shed light on the “simplicity” that so many of us crave to encounter in Africa.  When I asked this boy what he wanted to be when he grew up, he laughed first, and then reluctantly said, “An accountant.”  When I asked him why he laughed, his voice carried a dousing realism for his ebullient American interviewer: “Things are not so easy… It is a lot of school for an accountant… It is very expensive… It does not always work out that way.”

My time in Zambia has been a patchwork of these extremes.  The kaleidoscope of chitenge colors clash with the tattered clothing of the children gathered around the convent.  The rich fruits that color our table every morning at breakfast are absent from the meals of many.  My expectation to have electricity and running water has been disrupted, yes; but I am more moved by the realization that many families would never dream of having either in the first place.

But there is also beauty in this conflict of opposites.  My private American exterior is warmed by the salutations of every person (and yes, I mean every person) I meet on the road.  Despite their limited resources and supplies, the enthusiasm and tenacity of Zambian students outshines their hardships.  The deeply connected community of Zambia is evident in every action and interaction, and challenges the isolation and loneliness so many of us experience in our lives.

As I continue my time in Zambezi, I will remember the boy with the bicycle.  As with so many things here; joy is tainted with sorrow, life is touched by death, love with longing, and peace with restlessness.  It is only within the tension between these two extremes that we will be able to find, make, and share meaning with each other and with our Zambian brothers and sisters.

And I know that somewhere within the paradox of Zambia is the beauty we are all searching for.

Peace. Love.

Erin

P.S.  Megan, I love you man.  I miss you like crazy.  I cry whenever you post comments, which makes at least three other people cry. Let’s never do this again!  If you can, bring plain ol’ flip-flops, wet ones (lots), more liquid shampoo, a razor, and more food.  But no pressure.  See you on the tarmac, seester!

P.P.S. Mom and Dad, I will never doubt you again.  Everything you said I’d want, and I didn’t bring, I’ve desperately wanted.  You are very wise.  I love you, and miss you so much!

P.P.P.S. John, I think you’re probably in the wilderness right now, but I think of you every day…a lot.  I promise.  I love you!

 

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22 Responses to The Paradox Called Zambia

  1. Anna Hester says:

    Wonderful post! The strength that you all have to live in these two extremes as you perfectly described is both incredible and admirable. Keep on living in the moment and search for that balance between those extremes. Dance parties are a great way to brighten any day!!! Nothing greater than getting a dance lesson from the kids outside the gate…

  2. Kim Ferguson says:

    Erin,

    Your post as each one does brought tears to my eyes, this time it was the emotion of simple joy in simple moments that never leave our memories. Your story brought me back to the day my children learned to ride a bike the look of joy, freedom, triumph on their faces so vivid in my mind. Maybe that’s what you saw on this young man’s face..that simple beauty in a “moment”!

    I can only imagine the moments each of experience constantly! As George Strait sings: “Life’s not the breath you take the breathing in and out that gets you through the day ain’t what it’s all about you might just miss the point trying to win the race …life’s not the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away”

    Embrace your moments and thank you for sharing them with all of us at home who’s breaths you take away with each post!

    Love , Lauren’s Mom 🙂

    Lauren Liz I love you the most….it’s written in stone xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

  3. Katie Seelig says:

    What a great post! There is so much beauty in the simplicity of Africa.
    Aub-rizzle-sizzle! Miss you like crazy! Hope computers is going well! Love youuuu, stay strong and happy. Christina you too! Love you both!

  4. Megan Dempsey says:

    (Think Tom Hanks in Castaway): EEEEEERRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNN!!!

    Waahhhh. I miss you. Your post is absolutely brilliant (in the Harry Potter sense, of course, but also in the clear, bright sense that comes with wisdom and true insight). I loved reading it. Finally, I have a way to picture you in Africa. Lately I’ve been trying to think about what it looks like for you to be there, but every time I do, you’re either on a safari, in the middle of Blood Diamond, or your just your butt, in that picture earlier in the blog. Needless to say, my attempts to picture you have been mildly unsuccessful thus far, but your post meant so much to me!
    Thanks for the suggestions on what to bring. I’ve amassed a small (okay, huge) pile of protein bars and fruit leathers, and I was thinking about cutting my supply down because frankly the amount of food I’m thinking about bringing makes me feel like a fat lard, but I guess I’ll bring it all. Bringing a razor makes me nervous, I’d hate to get detained by the Brits, but I don’t want to be all Yeti-status in Zambia so I guess I’ll trust your judgement there too.
    Okay, I don’t want to be too clingy by writing a reply that’s longer than your actual blog post. But, I will end with one more paragraph, for you to remember when the experience is difficult and you need a reminder of what you’re doing, and why. In the words of Samwise Gamgee:
    “It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something… There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.”

    I love you!
    Megs

  5. Traci Dempsey says:

    Erin,
    Your post meant the world to me. I am still crying and just so proud of you. I miss you like crazy and I am sure I will reread this post everyday until you are home again. I thought of Romans 5:3-5 when I read your post. “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us!”
    I hope you are doing well and know how much you are loved and missed!
    mama 😉

  6. Mike Dempsey says:

    E,

    Thanks for sharing your thoughts and making your experience so vivid to us. I’ve often wanted to picture you in Africa and now I can! You are a wonderful soul and I’m proud of how you have made yourself present to those you are encountering. I hope you and the entire group of Zags are having the time of your lives! Our love and prayers continue to flow out to you all in your remaining days in Zambia and through your trip home. I love you and can’t wait to see you again <3

    "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." – Henry David Thoreau

    Muah,
    Papa

  7. Debbie Healy says:

    Each of the blogs are so well written and full of so much emotion – they are beautiful!! We are enjoying reading each one and thinking of Kellie being a part of the Zambia experience is overwhelming. We can’t believe we encouraged our baby to fly to the other side of the world for 4 weeks – but are so very proud of you for doing so. We hope you are all learning more than you are teaching and will have lifelong memories. Love from the USA. Kellie’s Mom and Dad

  8. Katherine DeGreef says:

    My dear friend Erin,

    I knew your post would be incredibly crafted, and that sitting here at my computer in Virginia I would feel truly like I was actually there in Zambia with you. I think about you all the time, and I pray for you even more! Sent up one huge prayer for you at the St. Louis Basilica, which is the most beautiful church I’ve ever been in, which must mean the prayer meant more? I don’t know if that’s how it works…
    You are just one beautiful human being who’s heart is so open, so deep, so constantly ready to experience, contemplate, and give. I stand in awe.
    And since your family decided to quote the likes of Lord of the Rings, Thoreau, the BIBLE (gosh, they pretty much took it all… just sayin) I’ll give you some Josh Garrels who always makes me think of you whenever I listen to this song:
    “Farther along we’ll know all about it
    Farther along we’ll understand why
    Cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine
    We’ll understand this, all by and by”
    Miss you more than you know, praying for you every day, and can’t WAIT to hear all about your experience!

  9. Nolan Grady says:

    A beautiful reflection, Erin, I’d expect nothing less. Continue to notice not just the paradox of Zambia, but also how that can be a lens into yourself and a means to examine your own paradox.

    Leadership team: I hope you know how often I’ve been thinking of you as your journey begins in that wonderful classroom. It’s full of tension, struggle, awkwardness, but really just love, and it’s so wonderful. Continue to remember that your presence is the present and the greatest gift you can ever give; all of us reading this blog have been fortunate to experience and know your presence, now is your time to share that gift with the Zambians, and them with you. And remember, when someone “craves to know” it isn’t always knowledge they’re referring to; sometimes its the craving to know someone.

    Since quotes seem to be the popular things today, I’d like to leave you with one said once by a very wise man:

    “Lunch is cancelled due to a lack of hustle. DEAL WITH IT.” -Ben Stiller in Heavyweights

  10. Katie Blackburn says:

    Erin! What a beautiful post… your writing kills me it is so good 🙂 Every day I read this blog I am so humbled by everyone’s authenticity… you are ALL amazing and I wish I could be in Zambezi with you. Keep the stories coming, hearing about your time in Zambia is one of the best parts of my day, every day!

  11. Andrew Opila says:

    Wow! Erin, this was a fantastic post….you never cease to amaze! I am quite humbled by you, thanks for your reflection. I swear it felt like I was back in Zambezi for an instant. Very palpable, thank you. You definitely discussed one of the toughest things about Zambia; the crazy paradox. Please continue to notice this and observe how you can use each moment in Zambezi to grow as a young women for others. No promises that saying “no” and experiencing these heartbreaks will get any easier, but relish in the humanity and authenticity in those moments. The people of Zambezi are incredibly real and I envy where you guys are right now 🙂 Each day in Zambezi is one you can partially relive a thousand times in your mind but can only truly live out once, so Carpe Diem!!!

    Shout out to the leadership team, you guys rock. Fergi, miss you and I hope all of you are healthy, energetic and have enjoyed those long walks to the Zambezi sunsets.

    Kisu Mwane.

    Opi

  12. Neshia says:

    Erin,

    I’ve been praying for your time especially at Chilena and I am so happy to find that it is already opening your eyes and heart to a world where books cannot always take us. In your Zambian classroom the fabliaux and malady d’amour of Chaucer may seem very irrelevant, but there is a power to both that testifies to the beauty of the written and spoken word. Your presence, and the presence of your entire Education group, is such a present to your pupils. Give them all of your hope so that they can believe it, too. I know you’re doing incredible work.

    Mwane vie mwane!

    Neshia

    P.S. Last summer our Mama Julie made the Education group take saltwater shots to stay hydrated because of the long walk to and from Chilena. It really helped us, it might help you.

  13. Matthew Hayes says:

    Dr. Armstrong,

    A picture of the group would be welcomed if possible. And we all would love to see pictures of your environment, where you are staying and working, and the wonderful people you are embracing. Thanks!

  14. Katy Covert says:

    Such an amazing post! Seems crazy to think that it’s been a year since I was right there. It sounds like you are all learning so much and I am praying for you guys! I read something today and it seemed fitting for this experience…”The most beautiful people we have known are the ones who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with the compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” Don’t forget to stop and look around at all the beauty in front of you and within each other! Mwane Mwane

  15. Judy Noh says:

    I got so excited just reading Hikaru’s name on the site that I just HAD to comment!! Still waiting for you to write a post though :). Aaaand, happy belated birthday best friend <3

    I've been following this blog and all of you seem like you are having such an awesome and life-changing experience. I think we forget so often how much more mature and calloused children are when they live in poverty. They have to endure far more than we could ever imagine and man, that leads to deeper, more profound revelations about life that we in America realize far later down the road. The sixteen year old boy you wrote about is such a perfect example of that.. He is the head of the family as a teenager and that's something that most of us experience at what, mid-2os? 30s even? It's crazy to think how different life is for them and yet we are all born into the same world.

    And the last paragraph with the paradoxes just kiiiiillled me.. This entire post was so beautiful 🙂

  16. Megan Wertman says:

    Erin,

    You put into words what every Zags-in-Zambezi alum knows all too well. Beautiful, beautiful insight. And your memory with the bicycle is a great metaphor to life: remember, in order to be stable on a bicycle, you must keep moving. And that is what many of the Zambians do; they don’t question their situations, their hardships in quite the same way that we do. And their smiles. That’s the thing I remember most. Thank you for the reminder 🙂

    Kisu Mwane,
    Megan

  17. Naseeb Bhangal says:

    Erin, thank you for posting your blog. It is quite amazing to read about how much is learned and welcomed by both the Zambians and the Zags there. Your vignette reminds me of an Indian rite called Nishkam Seva or Selfless Service. In India Nishkam Seva or Selfless Service is believed to be vital for all living creatures in sorrow and distress. There is a saying that if one limb of the body is in torture, the other limbs can have no rest. Surely being a part of the human family and all of you being in Zambia right now can understand this now more than ever.

    Your own experience also reminds me of the importance of truthfulness and the importance of radiating ones love to all others for the sake of God residing in them, and knowing how to give, give, and always giving. We never lose anything when we give. Yet, I have often wondered if by giving love whether it is possible to find less love in one’s heart? After reading your post it seems on the contrary. Clearly, Erin, you are conscious of an ever greater power of loving, but no one can be convinced of these things till she has applied them in a practical way. An ounce of practice is worth tons of theories and how fortunate you are to be doing exactly that!

    So thank you Erin for sharing yourself with others and consequently letting yourself expand. I’m sure it isn’t easy but at the very moment of giving I hope you continue to feel joy within. That is the compensation you get, direct.

  18. Ken Dempsey says:

    Erin: What a great article – well written and thoughtful. Why doesn’t that surprise me. I have one of the best grand daughter’s in the whole world. I love you Erin.

  19. Katie Dorner says:

    Erin,

    I have been looking forward to your post! You so beautifully were able to describe what is on your heart right now. Continue to wrestle with this paradox- there is so much beauty in our struggle to make meaning of it, as you have realized for yourself. Let the warmth and strength of your new Zambian friends give you energy each day. I am thinking and praying for all of you!

    Don’t miss a sunset.

    Sending so much love to you all,

    Keke (Katie Dorner)

  20. John heule says:

    A drop of time here or there
    Thoughts to cross my mind
    My best friend in Africa,
    No mailbox flower this time.

    We’ve got our minds on other things
    And I’m so excited to hear
    Your making the most of adventure!
    And doing so with humbled cheer

    You know I wish to be with you
    To follow you where you go
    But it doesn’t suprise me your making do
    With the strength of love you show.

    I hear you talking in the trees
    When wind hushes life for better
    Still as if I gave a plea
    It was terrific to see your letter!

    I’ve made lots of friends up here
    And they miss you too
    Chris guy Adam and James
    And I’ve treated the whole crew!

    (Weathers been cold but I don’t mind
    You know flannel and long johns are my kind)
    The woods Are treating me well up herein the north
    I’m back at summer camp again
    Lots to learn so that from here henceforth
    I’ll treat shock before it begins!

    I really loved getting to read your posting, and feel so blessed to hear anything from you! Keep up the good work, my dear, I love you so much Erin
    Love,
    Jihn

  21. John heule says:

    A drop of time here or there
    Thoughts to cross my mind
    My best friend in Africa,
    No mailbox flower this time.

    We’ve got our minds on other things
    And I’m so excited to hear
    Your making the most of adventure!
    And doing so with humbled cheer

    You know I wish to be with you
    To follow you where you go
    But it doesn’t suprise me your making do
    With the strength of love you show.

    I hear you talking in the trees
    When wind hushes life for better
    Still as if I gave a plea
    It was terrific to see your letter!

    I’ve made lots of friends up here
    And they miss you too
    Chris guy Adam and James
    And I’ve treated the whole crew!

    (Weathers been cold but I don’t mind
    You know flannel and long johns are my kind)
    The woods Are treating me well up herein the north
    I’m back at summer camp again
    Lots to learn so that from here henceforth
    I’ll treat shock before it begins!

    In town for a bit! I really loved getting to read your posting, and feel so blessed to hear anything from you! Keep up the good work, my dear, I love you so much Erin
    Love,
    Jihn

  22. Barbara Tanton Reid says:

    Dear Group 2:

    I was so pleased to hear from Gonzaga that you all arrived safely in Zambia. I cannot believe how important that note was to me. I hope you are all staying safe, healthy and energized for your wonderful adventure.

    On a really personal note, Anne, you must know I miss you. Enjoy each moment. All is calm in the family. Joyce was able to go home Thursday evening and wait there for the wonderful event, and I just had a delightful visit with my mom. Dad sends his love.

    I love you. See you soon. Love, Mom 🙂

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