kNOw Expectations

MC OBWWe are told to come to Zambia with no expectations.

Sitting around in the Reed Mat Lodge on our first night in Zambia, we reflected on our expectations for our Africa experience. Many of us suggested that we were coming in with only the expectation to learn and others with no expectations at all, but I am realizing more than ever the truth of my own comment the sentiment of which many had shared: “I’m sure I have expectations that I don’t yet realize, but as of now I’m trying to go in without any expectations.” As hard as I tried to not expect anything and jump into everything with all my effort, somehow on our last day in Zambezi I can call to mind over fifty expectations that have not been met.

In our class last semester while still at Gonzaga Josh spoke of relationships we will build in the community and the one friend we will grow inseparably close with, our “Zambian Best Friend.” While this was most definitely not the way it was presented, in the process of telling stories of past experiences of this trip, many of us painted this picture. We somehow ignored the constant reminder that there is not only one formula to this trip.

When Venezia and I attempted to prepare the computers we were planning to bring with us, we struggled to figure out how to log onto and upload the typing software. As Josh jokingly scoffed at our capabilities I asked him if he was sure he chose the right people for the computer team. In that moment he reminded us that teaching computers is not about teaching computers, it is about building relationships.

I now realize that was my expectation coming into this trip. I planned to build lasting relationships with both students and the Zambians in my classes.

In attempts to take in all of Josh’s advice and must see/dos in Zambia, somewhere along the way I fell into the trap of building surface level relationships and connecting with people to fulfill my quota of sights, smells, and connections. Some of these included creating funny homestay memories, meeting someone who lives in a bush village, purchasing presents for family and friends, getting a cold drink from George’s shop, engaging with our students, and much more.

When we arrived in Zambia we began to question our abilities even more, as we discovered that there would be 76 students in four classes each day. We had planned for 45 to 50 students in three classes each day. We quickly replaced our worries with the realization of a greater possibility of building relationships with more students. Unfortunately, we quickly realized that with very little time in between classes there was little time to build relationships with students.

I began to grow discouraged by the lack of opportunity to connect with a student further than “hello” and “good job” when they learned a new technique. One day I looked over at a student who was engaged in his cell phone while he waited for computer time. Looking around to see no hands in the air begging for my attention, I took the opportunity to engage in conversation. I talked with him about his day and about the leadership class he was taking from our students. Organically, the situation became one in which Ramson stayed after class each day and we talked for about a half hour.

I thought this might be my chance to make a connection, but I grew frustrated with the surface level of our conversation. I was feeling the pressure when Josh asked us to invite one of our friends from the community to the accompaniment lunch. This is a lunch designed to bring together students and their cultural guide, a person in the community who has helped enrich their experience. Essentially we were expected to have made our “Zambian Best Friend.” Despite the conversations Ramson and I had had, I still did not feel a stronger relationship growing with this 23-year-old Zambian. With the invite deadline approaching I invited him on a whim. That Sunday night dinner created the perfect platform for diving into deeper conversation. Away from the classroom and some of the other students, we finally carried our conversation to deeper topics, talking about the way he grew up, the goals he has to support orphans through school and to empower a younger generation to succeed. That night he was the last to leave and even as we walked to the gate it was hard to end our conversation.

Yesterday I finally got the opportunity to ask him to join me for a coke in the market. Ignoring the fact that dinner was in an hour, I took the leap to embrace this relationship. I realized that if we were going to get past the awkward conversations then we just had to get through them. On my second to last day in town I finally got the opportunity to explore more of Zambezi as he took me by his Aunt’s house where he was staying and around the neighborhood.

It is frustrating to feel that I have finally begun to build a relationship and we have to leave in the morning. Through this development I have come to recognize that simply asking questions and truly listening for the answers can bring about relationships over time. When I finally stopped worrying about doing my job of teaching computers and truly gave in to letting someone get to know me and I them, I was able to let go of my expectations of the relationships I would build and let them actually happen.

Although I have yet to ride an ox cart or play checkers with the man outside in the market I can look at the experiences I have had and recognize my growth.

Peace and Blessings,

Maryclare O’Brien-Wilson, Class of 2017

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9 Responses to kNOw Expectations

  1. Rosemary O'Brien-Wilson says:

    Maryclare,
    It is good to hear from you! I knew you would be one of the last to post…(yes, I have my expectations too), but that did not make it easier to wait.
    I am so glad to know that you have allowed your curious nature and your love for the simple moments accompany you to Africa. You have opened yourself, been blessed and have become blessing for us here as well. We are anxious for you to come home and share your stories and teach us about our Zambezi brothers and sisters.
    God bless your travels.
    Love and prayers,
    Mom

  2. Tom O'Brien-Wilson says:

    Maryclare, Your family has waited a long time for this blog! So very glad to hear from you! Your story (and those of the rest of the group) brought back memories of my own time in Tanzania. What you have experienced is truly a lifelong learning event crammed into a few short weeks. Savor the time you have left. Continue to enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of your journey. Pack it up anyway you can – photos, notes, trinkets, memories – and bring it all home with you. We wait for your return and look forward to hearing the rest of your story. You are one of my most precious treasures…come home safely. Love and blessings, Dad

  3. Lauralyn says:

    Maryclare, I am so proud of how awesome my sister is and I am so excited to hear that you are having such a great time. Keep having fun and enjoying the experience while taking it all in. I love you tons and I can’t wait until you are home (because I’m selfish)!
    Love, your favorite, Lynabin

  4. Taylor Ridenour says:

    MURCLUUURE,

    I have been waiting for this post from you! It is so good to hear from you friend! I was eating dinner just now thinking back to when you were applying, interviewing and anxiously awaiting the news of whether or not you would be going to Zambia and all the talks we had in those moments. I am so proud of you. There are tears in my eyes from looking at your picture and with the words you shared. Cannot wait to hear more about your time!

    Love you,
    Taylor

  5. Kathi Downey says:

    So good to hear that you are out there in this wide world changing lives. We look forward to seeing you and hearing about what you have learned. Love you, Aunt Kathi

  6. Kathi Downey says:

    You are out there in the world, learning and giving. Looking forward to hearing and learning from you about your adventures and experiences. Love you, Aunt Kathi

  7. Annarose says:

    My sister!
    I have checked this blog countless times in hopes of finding some glimpse of what your experience of Zambia has been, and now I finally get to hear it from your own perspective–I am so happy to hear that you are making the most of every moment. I identify with the indescribable desire to “check experiences off a list,” so to speak, and I wanted to make sure you know that I am so proud of you for maintaining your integrity and vulnerability in the challenging reality that is short-term study abroad. It is an absolute blessing to hear from you (even if it is just through this blog post), but I cannot wait for you to be only a phone call away again.
    With so much love and prayers,
    Annarose

  8. Rachael Robinett says:

    Hi Maryclare,
    Such a joy to read your post and hear about your experiences. You have ventured far while I have stayed near. Thank you for letting me see more of the world through your eyes and heart. Love you lots!
    Aunt Rachael

  9. Cecilia says:

    HI GANG HIIII! So sorry I completely fell off this comment game…I was roadtrippin’ for a weekish there and wanted to wait until I got home and settled before dedicating the energy and time this blog deserves and say my bit. First of all, HELLO LIVINGSTONE! Got word from Reilly Weds AM (my time) that you guys are there and enjoying your time thus far! Livingstone is its own adventure – enjoy and marvel. There is nothing in this world quite as breathtaking (sometimes literally) as god epitomized in that magnificent waterfall (which feels like too small of a word to capture that natural wonder). Anyway, enjoy and relish in your remaining time in that country! Also, this is long (cue Dodd rolling his eyes as he sees my essay), but I have a little somethin’ somethin’ to say to a good few of those bloggers I missed (so, bear with me/my apologies).

    Kenzie – Hands. I am an extremely visual person and quite touchy-feely myself, so I appreciate that connection you so poetically articulated in very much the same but also an extremely different way. Thank you for capturing that intimacy so delicately and concisely. I cannot wait to hear more about everyone’s homestay stories!

    Han – If I close my eyes (which have freakin’ tears in them, thank you very much), I am standing next to you, watching and enjoying and taking in that scene you so beautifully described. Hot and crowded and chaotic and disorderly and happier than the word happy can say. What a day forever tattooed in not only each of your hearts, but everyone in the past nearly decade who played their small part in bringing that library project to fruition. Hannah, I am so proud of you and miss you and love you and cannot wait to sit late into the night sometime soon and hear everything.

    Princess Reilly – I didn’t have to look at the name to know that writer was, indeed, you. You have not ceased, in all of our moments of friendship, to bring a smile (or eye roll) to my face, and I cannot wait to dive into your time in Zambezi. You painted such a thorough picture, and, through your words, I am there. Thank you for that. More to come. You bring so much to so many lives, and I am so, so elated that your ZamFam had you by their side.

    Katie – YESSS! That was my biggest frustration, as well…(accidentally) furthering the “us/them” divide by putting an entire culture and community and village and continent up on a pedestal and belittling these people only to stories of smiles and tears and hand-holding and laughs and triumphs. People are people, no matter where you are in the world. Don’t ignore or overshadow their own experiences or culture, but don’t let an idea or stigma of them – peachy or dark – define them. You are so brave for naming that, because shattering perceptions or telling stories that don’t confirm people’s preconceived notions is often uncomfortable. But hey, that just means we gotta do it, eh? Thank you, love bug. Also, I miss you in my everyday life. I selfishly cannot wait to be by your side again.

    PETERRRR – Holy. Toledo. You make me (and so many others) a better version of themselves. And wow, you are going to make an extraordinary doctor/health-whatever you decide to be. You capacity to observe and simply be and love is contagious, and I find myself smiling and seeing the world as just a little bit better of a place when you’re around. The world is yours, my friend, and wow am I proud of you. Peace & all my love.

    Venezia – Golly girl, what I would give to have been by your side in that classroom all month. Tedious…one year later, and I think you just pounced on the word that best captures what teaching in that computer classroom is like. Exhausting and trying and redundant and disheartening, at times, are a few others that come to mind, but you also worked your way down the path enough to not only see the deeper point of that experience, but you also fully identified and welcomed it. And you are so brave, naming your hesitance and caution. You are even braver for wanting to not let that dictate. Yes, the computer lessons were important and are going to add to many of your students’ lives, in many ways, but I truly believe that our purpose there is not to teach (or even to learn…yes, those are both important), but to simply acknowledge. To be. To listen and ask questions and engage. (Maryclare, this is for you too…) maybe you made 287 new friends. Maybe you made one. As long as you looked people in the eye and let them know that they are being heard, you are doing what is meant to be done. That hit me hard last summer, and Venezia & Maryclare, you put words to something I couldn’t at the time. I, now, realize that I was often getting caught up in having these “Africa moments” so many of my peers were having, and I stooped down to comparing myself and my experiences to those of my peers. But, whoa, no! Give yourself a break, and the reflecting and realizations don’t stop once you touch down in the US, so don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You were there. You were as present as you could be given the constant sensory- and emotion-overload. You’re allowed to be a fly on the wall sometimes, and you’re okay for only having the “superficial” convos sometimes. Maryclare, you (like Katie) named something uncomfortable and chose to dive deeper and further explore and dissect that. I am proud of you! You guys flew all those thousands of miles, and you showed up. You acknowledged, and then you, in way way or another, engaged. That says so much, in itself. Nooz, I love you. I am proud of you. I cannot wait for the 100 slumber parties we have coming up!

    Lucas – Jacob reminds me of a bud I made over there. He name is Michael and something tells me Jacob and him are buds (Michael was also some high up Head Boy thing when I was over there, and he also dreamt of becoming a pilot!). Carry that relationship with you. His story, in a way, wove its way into your own through that shared experience. He gave a piece of himself to you, and you to him. Don’t stop reflecting and pushing and challenging. Things may get harder, as you decompress from your time in Zambezi, but they will also get richer.

    Okay…everyone who fell asleep, wake up, I’m done. Thanks for putting up with me. I won’t rattle on, but I have had each of you in my heart since the moment you left. My lack of presence on the blog doesn’t mean I haven’t looked up at the sun each day and moon each night and wondered what each of you were up to. We are all, after all, under that same sun and moon. Love each of you you to every corner of this world and back. And DODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD, cannot wait to sit down and gossip about these kiddos. You are in so many ways my hero and role model. Thank you for you.

    ILY ALL/kisu mwane,
    Cecilia

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