Over the past year, I have been grappling with what it means to be human. Often, the difference between my own privilege and the struggles faced by a large portion of the world have fueled confusion and uncertainty about what it means to experience life from a human perspective. In this process, I have started to believe that the way in which I interact with life is not inherently human. I have begun to try and understand that much of the world lives in conditions far different from my own, and my unique experiences reflect a privilege I cannot begin to understand. Due to consistent reflection on this topic, I have begun to pay more attention to the vast inequalities that can be uncovered and exposed anywhere one looks. Many people are consistently silenced, oppressed, displaced—in need of real, present, active change. This concept has been guiding my perspective for what it means to be human.
However, this exploration happened solely in Spokane and in the confines on my own mind. From my bedroom, classrooms, and long processing walks, I tried to understand that much of the world lives in conditions far different from my own.
I lacked experience.
I cannot pinpoint why I decided to come to Zambia. However, I am inclined to believe that I came on this trip to discover a little more what it means to be human, to test if my working hypothesis was correct. Perhaps I was seeking to live in a community that contrasted my own in order to have a wider interpretation of what the reality of the human experience is.
It seems selfish to think that I decided to come for my own experience. After all, what entitles me to think that my own experiences are worth the sacrifice and efforts of individuals in a community I do not even know. I would like to believe that I did not come to help along the lines of saviorism. After all, Zambians do not need my help, and my days are structured far more around learning than anything I can bring. Alas, I settled on trust that I came to accompany. Yet this abstract conclusion still troubled me as to why I would think that Zambians seek my accompaniment, and what does that even mean?
In reality, my motivation for my journey here is still unknown, but I am beginning to construct some possible reasons as to why, in this moment, my being is present.
Upon my arrival to Zambezi, I discovered I did not even know what it meant to accompany somebody. Quickly I discovered that I am here to learn how to accompany, rather than distribute my accompaniment among all the people I meet. During our market scavenger hunt, Wendy taught us accompaniment as she closed her shop to help us look for lemons. I learned accompaniment when Caroline made me stop and take a breath after I face planted on one of our morning runs. Albertina taught me accompaniment as she giggled at my inability to stir the pot of nshima while her neighbors danced in the kitchen. Mabel taught me accompaniment as she gave me feedback on our lesson when walking home from the market. Accompaniment means having your eyes, your soul, your being oriented toward the present, a lesson that radically changes my orientation toward the future.
Accompaniment is not the only expectation I had for this experience. I also anticipated a great deal of difference. My working definition of human experience caused me to anticipate feeling like life in Zambezi would feel like living on another planet, yet my time has felt comfortable. Even more, the first few weeks have felt strikingly human.
Human.
Not the differences in our ability to meet our needs, but the essence of what it means to truly experience life.
At the very beginning of the trip, Jeff told us to remember that Zambians are humans too. This fact seems obvious. How could I be so entitled to look over the humanity of the community I have been welcomed into? Despite the seemingly elementary nature of this statement, its implications have guided me on how to interact with the people I meet. Humanizing on a community level can mean an understanding that there are varying roles, personalities, interactions, and voices present. Just as I interact with my Spokane communities, I see the same variety of individuals in Zambezi. The people are comfortable, familiar, and connected to those in my life who they will never meet. I began to see Zambezi as a place I can be a part of rather than one I simply observe.
On a personal and individual level, once again, both Zambians and zags are humans. In “Come to the Table: Five Values for the Global Citizen,” Aaron Ausland writes,
To sit at the communion able is to realize our share in the human condition. We may
be better positioned to have some of our needs met, but our neediness allots us
equality to those we serve.
Upon reading this, I found these words to be a guide on my journey of discovering what it means to be human. These words offered a new perspective for how humanity can acknowledge difference (in our ability to meet our needs, for example) yet focus on our shared humanity.
Zambians are humans too.
As long as we are united in our humanity, our needs come together to form a dependence on each other that transcends whatever differences we may hold.
I see profoundly human experiences when I spend the mornings observing in the hospital. The first day I was there, Kamy, Sloane, Ellie, and I were introduced to a patient in the men’s ward. As the doctor told us his list of health conditions, including heart failure, I saw him. On the outside, this man could have been just another individual I could meet in the market. On the inside, his body was working against him, and he shared the same vulnerabilities we all do as embodied beings. The doctor continued to explain that surgical care would require transport to Lusaka which would be a difficult and inaccessible task for this patient. As a result, their care is centered around prolonging the precious life of this man. We were united in our embodied nature, and the vulnerability of the situation. After meeting this patient, I started to see my family and friends in the other patients who I visit. One woman, who I see on a daily basis, comes to mind. When I am guiding her through her shoulder and hip mobility, I see her daughter and her caregivers and how my family could be in the exact same situation. Today, when treating this woman, Brudas, the physical therapist who I shadow at the hospital, told me that today I was the physical therapist and he was the learner. I enclosed my hand around hers and began the exercises. I am not sure what authority allowed me to be in such a vulnerable and delicate position. Perhaps my education, my loaned scrubs, my white skin. Likely a combination of culture or social dynamics I do not understand. Whatever the reason, it is a power I have not earned but a privilege I am grateful for. As I locked eyes with the patient and assisted her stretches, she taught me what it means to be human, what it means to share an experience, what it means to accompany someone. We did not need to speak the same language or share any words. However, I am confident that we had a mutual understanding of reality in that precise moment.
Like my position in the hospital, the lessons on humanity I have learned while being here, have never been earned. Nonetheless, they have been a new privilege I can be grateful for. Profound moments of raw humanity have continued to remind me that an overarching understanding of being human is centered around what we share as we orient ourselves to face the present rather than the future.
Humanity lives in the present moments where we allow our souls to connect.
Like Ausland says, we are united in our neediness, it is a part of being human, or maybe it is what makes us human after all. Maybe that is our experience.
I do not believe that humanity is only found in moments that necessitate complete reliance, but also in moments that are simply, so human. I often think of these moments as elementary behaviors that connect our souls. While I am sure there are cultural differences in provoking these moments, I have found striking similarities during the past few weeks.
Trash talking the Gabis during a semi-impromptu volleyball match felt “so human.”
Having deep conversations of significance while watching the stars feels “so human.” What feels even more human is taking breaks to gasp, point, and cheer when a shooting star crosses the sky.
Having the choir take over our singing performance at our first mass felt “so human.”
Dancing to music in Albertina’s living room felt “so human.” Even more human was that the speaker was massive, and the Bluetooth came from a flip phone.
Pretending to sleep while passing other rigs full of tourists on the safari felt “so human.”
Sometimes being human means joining in on the little moments that do not make a ton of sense. They have no other reason but to remind us of joy and reality that life does not have to be all serious.
These moments are “so human.”
As I continue to have fun human moments, I hope to see the true humanity in the people I am with. Although I have always known there is no simple way to sum up what it means to experience life through a human perspective, I am becoming more convinced that it is not our ability to meet our needs that defines our life, but the ways in which we experience humanity that connects our souls.
I hope to continue to experience humanity from a new perspective. I hope that I am challenged and that my working definition will continue to be complicated. After all, trying to define our whole experience of humanity is very likely in itself, “so human.”
Mom and dad, I miss you. Hearing the comments on the blog makes my day. Don’t worry though, I don’t miss you too much, and surely not any more than normal. Mom, I know you probably cry every time you read the blog, so maybe have somebody read it to you, but maybe not dad because it might be the longest thing he has ever read. Dad, I am sure you have played more rounds since your last comment. Doubling 15 and 16 on an even back is unfortunate considering those really shouldn’t be doubles. Say hi to Steven for me 🙂
To all the grandparents, I hope you figured out how to read the blog, and I am looking forward to some lunch gatherings soon.
Okay, that’s all…
Taylor Mularski
Class of ’26
Taylor!! I’ll comment more later but I desperately wanted to be the first comment (ha, ha). I am reading this at work while my kids are in library and I am not going to be able to recover. Kelli warned me not to read it now…but when I saw it was you I just couldn’t help it. I love you so, so much and you gave me so much to think about. More on that later…but man do I miss you!!
Taylor, I really enjoyed reading your blog post – it was so honest and beautiful. Thank you for being vulnerable and for sharing your deep reflections about your time there and what you might take away from your experience. I continued to be so inspired by all of you and can’t wait to hear more about your internal shifts and changing perspectives. I’m learning from each and every post that is written. Thank you for this!
Natalie – You must be learning so much and experiencing some shifts within yourself! I can’t wait to have you home and hear all about your experiences. I hope you have settled into a routine and are enjoying your time there, but I’m counting the days until you are back! Hazel and Griffin miss you too and can’t wait for their snuggles:-)
Taylor, what a beautiful post. Sounds like you are taking in every moment and truly understanding what a wonderful world we live in. We are lucky we get to share this place with some incredible human beings. I hope you continue to soak in every minute!
Taylor, Just got done reading your post, still crying-tears of love. Thank you for sharing your experiences. G/Sandy Lots of insights far ahead of your age, you are an amazing young woman with the ability to make a difference. G/Randy
What a beautiful insight into your journey outside your bubble. You should feel proud of your willingness to try and see what it means to be human, and finding such a fantastic way to experience life in Zambezi. Thank you for sharing your insights.
Taylor, what a reflection! I love that you ended the post hoping that things continue to be challenging and complicated. Says so much about your approach on this trip and your approach in being human. Your stories shine a bright contrast to everyday life here — especially how our default can be seeking the “easy and simple” over the challenging and complicated (guilty!). In describing your PT work, you got me thinking about unearned power, unearned privilege and how our awareness of both matters. Thank you, Taylor.
I don’t find it selfish for you to have gone to Zambezi for your own experience. That THIS was the experience you sought says something about the curiosity and humanity inherently inside you. I celebrate that! Look what you’re doing/thinking/feeling with this experience, Taylor. I can’t imagine how many throughout your lifetime will be unselfishly touched by connection with you as a result of this experience. It’s important and beautiful! And OOOOOH to gasping at shooting stars and YESSSSS to trash-talking. Yes, yes, yes to all of it.
Mia, you still out there? (Phew! Just checking.) Harper started her internship today. Eva’s taking care of all the Astor house stuffs. Avery graduates tomorrow. Annnnd … please take a moment of silence to honoring the dramatics currently involved in B selecting a graduation outfit (two days away!). Love you big bunches and YOU GOT THIS!
6:39 PM in Oakland. 3:39 AM in Zambezi.
1-2-3
xoxo,
Elisa
Taylor – Your reflections are beautiful and wise. There’s such tenderness in how you talk about humanity—not as a goal to master, but as an evolving, layered experience that connects us beyond words. I love the idea that it’s not about how well we meet our needs, but how deeply we live and connect with others. That’s a reminder I didn’t know I needed today. It’s a gift to witness your journey through all of the blog posts!
Hi Caroline M — I just wanted to say I miss you. I went to the Jesuit softball game tonight and they lost in the semi-finals (baseball did too), so a bit of a tough night on the field (and I also missed you playing -those were fun days). Jack and I are enjoying some quiet time at home, and we loved getting to FaceTime with the boys in Ireland today! Seeing their smiles made my heart happy, but it also made me miss your sweet face even more. I was so glad to see you in that boat photo — it truly made my day. Love you and miss you so much, pretty girl. ❤️
Yes, I’ve played several more rounds since my last comment, and I wish I could say things went better! I lost the weight in my putter, and not surprisingly, it actually worked better—I’m replacing the weight with a penny….… the moose is back!
As for the blog, it’s the longest thing I’ve read since the epic “Paul Blart” Christmas letter. It had the same effect—my glasses kept fogging up! So it took me a while. I read it in private with Steven. He got uncomfortable and left the room, but I was soaking in every word.
I’m thinking about you every day, always looking at the clock and calculating the time change—it’s 8:13 am your time right now. I’m wondering who you’re going to meet today and what experience you’ll have. I love your theme: “Human.” People are awesome. It doesn’t matter where you are or what you have—it’s what’s in your heart.
I really want to taste nshima!.
I can hear your voice as you tell the stories of the people you’re meeting—the humanity you bring to every interaction really shines through in your blog, “Humans.”
Keep soaking it up!!I
I Love you Dad,
79 watch tomorrow I hope!!
40/37…The 79 watch was in effec
t today!
Taylor, great post! I loved this line “Accompaniment means having your eyes, your soul, your being oriented toward the present, a lesson that radically changes my orientation toward the future.” And your focus on humans reminds me, more comically than seriously but with similar insights, of my quirky friend Gavin (whom Piper has met) who used to ride and bike around the CC campus simply saying (quite loudly and in a variety of deep sarcastic voices) “HUMANS” and “HELLO HUMANS”…
And since one of your observations is that trash talking can be “so human” please give Piper some grief for me! That way she’ll know her dad is thinking of her, and that she’s just “so human” like all the rest…and ask her about her beautiful and kind gifts of coupons for things like “10 minute of no messin”…I miss her so much but feel so blessed she’s having such a deeply human experience with you all and your new Zambian friends and fellow humans!
Thank you Taylor, and everyone, for all of your wisdom and insights, honesty and humility, and the individual ways that you all express the depth of experiences you’re having in Zambia. I so look forward to being transported there as I read your words, as an outsider getting a small glimpse of being within, alongside all of you. Please give my love to Piper! We miss her so much but couldn’t be happier she is on this tremendous journey with all of you!!
Hi Taylor!
What an amazing blog. I spent many mornings shadowing with Brudas in the physio ward and each day I learned something new, whether about stretches or x-rays, culture or simply what the plans of our day were. It was an experience you never forget, and still a privilege I may never earn but am grateful to have had the chance for that accompaniment. It’s funny I just texted Brudas today, and said I was thinking of him, Able and the physio ward and hoping they met a Gonzaga student! What a wonderful suprise to then read the blog and know they get to share their knowledge and who they are to more students. I’m so so happy you are getting to meet them.
Brynn
Zamfam ‘24
Keep spending time with them… and if you meet Able he always likes new music recommendations
Vickie (Taylors grandma) Joe (Taylors Grandpa)
Taylor, grandpa and I had tears in our eyes when we were reading you’re post, what a great experience this is for you! Grandpa hasn’t figured out the blog yet but he’s working on it. We love you and we can’t wait for you to get home! Bella says hi.
Taylor! Yet another spectacular, honest, reflective piece. Thank you for sharing your experiences and your worries, your joys. I think about birth lottery so often. I loved this line “ Quickly I discovered that I am here to learn how to accompany, rather than distribute my accompaniment among all the people I meet”…. Well stated!
Weenie, I continue to miss you more and more each day, but getting a glimpse of you on the itty bitty raft, smile shining brightly and the funny caption… I’m so glad you weren’t crocodile food either! Misssssss you and love you oodles. Love you honey!
Taylor — thank you for your courage to experience, to learn, and to share. I appreciate the honesty in discovering the meaning of “accompaniment”. Early on, as Sean described the upcoming journey, I learned that it was not about “serving” or “teaching” the Zambians. I did learn to use the word accompaniment … and I thought I was doing well. But really, you have and will continue to discover what accompaniment means — to experience the present together, simply as humans, and “allow our souls to connect”. So human and so beautiful.
Sean – Not being able to get enough of your words and your voice, I have returned to your post and re-read it a few times. It struck me that what you said about the teacher-student relationship can also be true of the parent-child relationship. “No longer just a [parent-child] relationship, we [are] co-creating the teaching and learning, becoming mutually indebted to each other’s knowledge and experience. Wow – I continue to learn from you – and for that I am grateful. Thank you also “for trusting me to create a learning experience that is worthwhile” for your last 20+ years. We move forward, learning together. Love you bunches!
Hi again Taylor. I know double comment…but I am pulling the mom card on this as I was a bit rushed on my first comment (second graders do not allow for the multitasking needed to comment on a blog while investigating who really did cut in line on the way back from Library). So here we go…
Oh sweet girl, from the time you were little you have embodied this rare balance of a welcome dose of reality, a gentle spirit, a genuine kindness, and an unexpected sense of humor. I just could feel all of these parts of you come through in this post. I continue to marvel at all that you are.
It brings me such joy to read how you are embracing this experience and authentically orienting yourself toward the present moment. I cannot imagine a greater gift for yourself or the community you are living in. Thank you for sharing your stories illustrating the ways in which you are experiencing human moments. Stargazing, singing, dancing, and even trash talking (Zane had you well prepared for this!). I loved it all. You said it best, “As long as we are united in our humanity, our needs come together to form a dependence on each other that transcends whatever differences we may hold.” (AKA the new quote on the entryway board!)
You were correct…I do cry after reading every post! You know your mom so well. You and your friends however, continue to surprise me in the best possible ways. I am so proud of you all I can hardly stand it. So keep being the amazing humans that you all are. I will be cheering you on (and yes crying) every step of the way!!
Totally pull the Mom-card on it, Lisa! Unlimited comments for Moms on “THAT’S MY KID!” posting day. 🙂 Love it.
Hello to my amazing Granddaughter. What an experience. HELLO HUMANS
PAPA KRILL – PIPER’S GRANDDAD
Hi Caroline O!!!! I miss you! I hope it is an amazing experience
Thank you, Taylor, for sharing your thoughtful, wise words and the beautiful imagery of your “so human” moments! Love you, Cate!!
Taylor that was beautifully written and I am going to be looking for “human” moments in my day today! Yesterday I was feeling a little worried about you Katy— it’s hard not knowing anything or hearing anything. Ali reassured me that all of your Sambica experience and “bug school” are what made you ready for this trip and she reassured me you are doing amazing!! Yay!!! I love you and I can’t wait to meet all of your new friends, too! Xoxo Mama
Wow Taylor, another beautiful insightful post. I love these blog posts and I’ll admit I refresh my browser every hour to see if I can get any news about Kathleen.
Kathleen – miss you tons. You’d be pleased I’m wearing the new shirt that you picked out for me. I’ve gotten a ton of compliments. We love you and miss you. Carlos Alcaraz continues to dominate the French Open and beat my favorite, Tommy Paul, yesterday. I’m counting down the days until you return.
These are incredible stories everyone is sharing, truly a touching experience! Go snoop!! I know you’re doing incredible things miss you loads
Thank you for posting the great photo with your reflection. It gave me the chance to see one of my favorite Humans, my daughter Caroline M! Love you Care Care!
Hey Taylor,
I gotta admit I was looking forward to reading your blog. It seems you were immediately interested in going to Zambezi without being able to pinpoint exactly why, which was exactly how I felt. Im glad you are having so many moments of humanity. Zambezi has those around every corner. Im excited to hear about your adventures next year in CLP!