Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

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

Hi, all! We promised some alternative programming, so here’s a go at it. These Zags have experienced a variety of sensory moments during their time here. Sometimes we have unexpected visitors:

But the most consistent is the music from our varied church services. Many of you following along know that I asked our dear friends, Fathers Max and Roy, to teach us a song before we left Spokane. I wanted our group to begin our cultural learning with something that would allow an immediate connection to community members. Though I have no technical knowledge of music (and these Zags can attest that keeping time is not among my strengths), I am always profoundly moved by the music we experience here and the musicality of every part of life for many Zambians. I thought you might be interested to hear some of the soundtrack of our journey. Apologies for the unedited tracks, and here’s hoping the links behave.

From the outset, Zambian hospitality is marked by music. Just over two weeks ago, students from Chilenga school, under the direction of Jescar Mukumbi, welcomed each bush flight that landed on the Zambezi airstrip: Airstrip welcome.MOV

The first week our teaching candidates were at Chilenga school, the Head Teachers called an all-school assembly, which included a rendition of the Zambian national anthem, “Stand and Sing of Zambia, Proud and Free”:

At the same assembly, the school’s pupils also expressed their care for our Zags with a song that translates to a prayer for God’s protection:

For a bonus, here are back-to-back songs sung by St. Cecelia, one of the several choirs of Our Lady of Fatima Parish, during the offering at our first Mass here in Zambezi: Offering songs (1).m4a

In our recent trip to Dipalata, we were welcomed in a way that has become a kind of heartsong for us, one that most Zambians use to greet visitors, and which you may hear your Zags unconsciously humming to themselves when they are puttering around the house after returning home: Welcome welcome dip choir.m4a

Finally, back to that song we stumbled through in March and April: Namumoni mwantaa yesu inakwinza eee, mu muchima wami (I have seen the Lord coming, in my heart). This is a Lunda song, near ubiquitous in churches here in our part of North-western Zambia, and it was a delight watching our Zags stumble through the timing and lyrics. Each time we’ve sung it, a Zambian or a full Zambian choir has helped us refine our rendition. Yesterday, during our service in Dipalata, the choir director Pepitex, led us in what felt like our broadway debut: Namumoni in Dipalata.MOV

We hope you enjoy these small slices of the music that has brought vibrancy and joy to our time here in Zambezi!

Jeff Dodd

It’s time for Jeff and James to write the blog, so buckle up as we dish the dirt on ZamFam ’25. But first, a poem:

_______________________

Your children are not your children.
    
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
    
They come through you but not from you,
    
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
    
For they have their own thoughts.
    
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
    
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
    
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
    
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
    

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
    
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
    
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
    
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

—————

This poem, by Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran, published in 1923 in his book The Prophet, has been on James’ mind a lot in the past three weeks as we have come to know these 18 unique and wonderful humans during our time in Zambezi.

As you have probably picked up, we have different styles when it comes to our accompaniment of the crew. Jeff tends more towards the side-eye, the incredulous stare, and the biting sarcastic response (e.g. “If ONLY we knew a Zambian who could answer that question!”), while James favours (yes, with a “u”) a bumbling, avuncular, “Well, perhaps you might consider trying this approach. If you like.” But we hope that our deep affection for these fine young people is in no doubt either to them or to you, their tribes. We thought we’d take a moment to share a few lines from Gibran, refracted through the lens of our experiences alongside your students these last few weeks.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts – There’s a tension in parenting (and education, too) between protecting our children/students from the wild world and pushing them towards the challenge and discomfort of experience that will help them to become more fully the people they can be, that will “sharpen” them, in the words of Javez, the taxi driver in Livingstone who ferried us to the Falls and to the airport. In many indigenous societies, learning is more about observation, experience, and application. Indeed, one impromptu encounter with a local here in Zambezi led to a demonstration of how he runs his fishing nets and a reminder that, “experience is the best teacher.” So much of life and instruction is more about course correction than the pre-feast at the Learning Table that characterizes the Western educational paradigm. Many of our students want the clear takeaways of their learning immediately, but that simply isn’t possible in many instances. We’ve both been trying to let the experience lead, knowing that it will take months or even years for the understanding and wisdom to emerge. We cannot give them our thoughts, but we can challenge their thoughts when those stand in the way of seeing the broader picture. We’ve had deep and passionate conversations about healthcare, white saviourism, language, gender roles, taboos, the history of Christian missionaries in this region, and so much more, and we hope they will continue these conversations with you on their return.

You may strive to be like them – While some of the ZamFam–some occasionally and some quite frequently–ask questions which they could probably answer for themselves if they had time to give it more thought, in general they have stepped up and leaned into the highly ambiguous flow of daily life and polychronic approach to time here. It’s been a while since we heard anyone say, “So-and-so was late for our appointment,” for example. In other words, they’ve adapted to their surroundings and quickly set aside their cultural training as they’ve sought to understand the community in which they are immersed. As much as we mentally (and actually) roll our eyes at times, we have both commented on the fact that we were barely a fraction as self-aware, generous of spirit, and accomplished at their age. Each day at lunchtime, we listen to one of them read their blog post, and then hear the comments that you, their parents and siblings and grandparents and friends and cheerleaders, post in response. We are constantly taken aback, as we know you have been, by the depth of their insights and the joy, compassion, and vulnerability they exhibit as they get to know each other and experience life in the community we are fortunate to be a part of for this brief time.

Their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow – Each evening after dinner we sit and reflect on the themes from our readings and the inevitable tensions our days’ experiences offer for our consideration. We imagine this ZamFam in the house of tomorrow, which we cannot visit, recalling memories from this time and pondering the beauty and humanity of the people they knew here, and questioning a world which allows such an unequal distribution of resources. We know from having combined for over four decades of work at Gonzaga that our students go on to do amazing work in the world (some of you seem to be prime examples!), and so we also know that the moments of young adulthood when we struggle with tensions and have to parse the complexities of life together, those moments accrete to inform the people we will become. We have no doubt that your already great Zags, will use this time in Zambia to continue becoming the fullest, richest versions of themselves. And, perhaps they will someday encourage their children, too, to seek out experiences beyond their comfort zones, and slowly create a world of gladness and stability.

Your children are not your children. – We have all been changed by this experience. At the very least, our understanding of humanity and human resilience has deepened. We have witnessed the strange become normal for us, and the normal become strange. When we meet, or when your children and friends return to you, we may not be able to articulate the full complexity of the experience, but we will be able to tell you about individuals we’ve met who welcomed us into their lives and laughed with us, or sometimes at us. We will be able to describe the simple joy of planting cabbage in Chipego’s garden and saying silent prayers that it will thrive in the sandy soil. The joy of being handed a newborn baby to weigh and saying a silent prayer that she, too, will fly swift and far. Indeed, in some small way, we hope that your children are, if ever-so-slightly, not the same young people you sent off to SeaTac last month.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. – Many of us see in our children a kind of fulfillment, or a circling back. We want to love them and help shape them and them set them off to a life full of vibrancy, wonder, awe, and joy. James (parent of three adult children) and Jeff (just back from video chatting with a newly minted teenager and a for-one-more-week-eight-year-old) know all too well that anyone who shakes their stick and complains about “kids these days” is likely someone who might not spend much time with young people. Are your Zags loud, sometimes a bit obnoxious, and generally a tad squeamish about spiders, bugs, and bats? Yep. But they’ve also astounded us with their respectful curiosity about others, their deep care for one another, their readiness for an uncomfortable conversation, their excitement for exchanging knowledge with people from vastly different backgrounds than their own, and their profound capacity for compassion. Hot take: If that’s what marks kids these days, Life may just have found its fulness.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. – Thank you, ZamFam parents, for encouraging your children to join the program when it would have been easier and more comforting to keep them close. As the above might suggest, we regularly find ourselves remarking on these students’ insightfulness, curiosity, and care, and we know very well how much of that comes from the embrace of supportive elders. Thank you for the sacrifices you have made, for raising these wonderful children, who have flown so swift and far. As parents, we too know the joy-pain of raising and letting go. And thank you for accompanying us through your appreciative and supportive comments. We feel like we have come to know El padre de Natalie, Brian, Coco, Ozzie and Ali, Elisa and so many more of you. And if you are reading but not commenting, please do: it means the world to know you’re here with us in spirit.

We are eager to continue learning alongside your Zags for the rest of this journey, so please stay tuned, as we hope to have a few special features in the midst of our regularly scheduled programming.

James Hunter, School of Education, Director MA, TESOL
Jeff Dodd, College of Arts and Sciences, English Department

I prepared for this trip by downloading five movies prior to this trip, but only two stayed, one of those being the Secret Life of Walter Mitty. If you haven’t seen the film, I could probably recite it for you word for word, but the main thing you need to know is that at the end the idea is, the quintessence of life is the people who make it. While I am starting to become sick of this movie, I think that movie stuck on my Disney + downloads for a reason. This trip would not be the same if I packed up and left Spokane alone; the people make the experience and the memories. In this blog post I want to share the quintessence of Gonzaga in Zambezi, and the people who have made it so beautiful for me:

Ellie, a girl who brings the most amount of joy to the most mundane moments. Ellie chose to step up on her day off when it was my turn to do dishes and made it a Dixie Chicks stomp party in the kitchen.

When you first meet her, Caroline M. can seem very serious, but in the situations where we have moments of just the two of us, the whispered jokes bring a sense of humor to any situation. For example, in Zambezi, when you are a guest somewhere it is not uncommon to be gifted a live chicken. At homestays we were asked to kill and cook our new gift, the looks between Caroline and I during this time were subtle but meaningful. Everyone needs a Caroline to give “the look” to so you don’t freak out but have a giggle instead.

Sean reminds me to enjoy everything that you do and do it with passion and purpose. He easily could have rushed past Mustafa the tailor, just asking for a shirt to be made, but he formed a full relationship with Mustafa. To be like Sean you must keep it real but open and take time and fully commit to conversation and learning with everyone you meet.

Carly is determined and knows exactly what she wants. Carly knows to do what brings her joy and this trip was no exception. She shows a sense of knowledge and bravery that inspires me. While I have no idea what I want to do in life, hearing someone who is doing everything now for a future in teaching and teaching well is amazing and you can learn so much from her.

Over the course of this trip, I have been able to see Mia’s “cool” move in so many ways. Watching her selflessly work with students and kids inspires me. In the computer and leadership class we teach, Mia always is down to put in her best effort and is confident in what she knows. One woman in our class has never used a computer and has been struggling a little bit. Mia took the time to approach her after class and offer to teach her one on one so she could get caught up. I will always watch and learn from Mia.

On this trip Kamy has truly chosen to embrace Zambian culture. From learning traditional dances, learning how to greet a Zambian father-in-law at dinner last night, and waking up early on days she didn’t have too to cook breakfast for the group. The women in Zambian culture embrace the time spent doing things like cooking, dancing and learning from each other. Kamy’s choice to show love through food and dance is a side of hers that I had not seen prior to this trip. To take a lesson from Kamy is to learn that when you try new things, you not only learn but grow as well.

Sarah always has a positive outlook on life with laughter alongside her, some great traits of a teacher. Sarah and I have been sharing a room for the past two weeks here at the convent and what a joy it has been. Taking a negative situation and problem solving with a smile is something that not many can do, but with a Sarah in your life you can find the positive spark in any situation.

This trip I have grown so much closer to Piper by just enjoying life with her. She gets the hard days and embraces the moments of joy in the bright ones. One memory from this past week was when we went to the market to simply get rice and cinnamon sticks and ended up there for almost three hours. With translation sheets in hand, we ran through the inner market learning Lunda and Luvale while laughing and dancing with the vendors. We ended up in every corner of the market learning new words from each person while dancing and cheering when we could get one word right.

Caroline O. over the course of this trip has shown me what it’s like to be vulnerable. When she shares, she does so with heart and emotion, something I personally struggle with. She is always around with a hug and a smile on a rough day and is a calming presence to have in the convent.

Becca is one of the funniest women you will ever meet. She has this ability to light up every room she goes into and is always willing to enjoy and new experience. But that is Becca up front, when you know her deeper, she has a strong since of compassion for others. She cares for all who enter her life and shows them love. Becca is not the type of girl to talk behind your back or judge you, she lives in the moment, laughs and cries with you.

Natalie has taught me to be flexible and ok with the emotions I experience on this trip. I enjoy our conversations from one bed to another about what we have experienced in the day. Natalie is someone I feel I can talk to about anything and everything and be heard and understood, people like this are important—keep them.

I always get asked from the children in Zambezi, “Where is Taylor?” Taylor is probably enjoying an adventure or getting connected with someone from her class. Taylor is always down for a little giggle or side quest through the market and brings so much joy and energy to our group here.

Three weeks into this trip I have learned what a gift it is to know Alea. She is here to learn from others, but subtly ends up teaching me daily. For example, thanks to her, today we visited one of her students, Chipego’s, cabbage farms where she encouraged us to lean in to this communal experience of working together to plant his garden. When we were done, Chipego was so proud of the work we had done and was beaming with joy. Without Alea we would have never seen the joy of Chipego doing what he loves. Alea brings out the passion and good in people, find ways to do this and you will meet people at their best.

Cate and I teach the computer and leadership class here and after class we always find ourselves in an awesome photo shoot with our students. This is something we can both laugh about, but we also have the ability to sit with these people. While to someone on the outside it might look odd for chindeles (foreigners) taking photos with local Zambians, it actually comes from us talking with our students about music, language and culture. Also, Cate has brought me back to times with friends and family by doing 10 for 10 with me, if you know you know. I really am glad I have Cate on this trip.

Sloane has this gentle wisdom about her, she always has the right advice to give and has one of the kindest souls. However, if you catch Sloane off guard, you will find a goofball. I am reminded of times where Sloane will crack a joke at the perfect time and everyone will laugh. She will come out of her shell and surprise everyone with her amazing acting like a baboon skills.

Kathleen and I would have never crossed paths if it weren’t for this trip, but boy am I glad we did. We have had such similar lives that have been so fun to dissect with each other through deep conversation. From both of us having families in Alaska to experiencing similar things through high school and college we have truly connected and think our moms should do the same. Kathleen and I have lived close together for most of our lives and had so many crossovers, yet this trip is the first time we have been brought together. When Kathleen speaks, I feel, I understand, I listen, I process. I need Kathleen on this trip to simply process together and follow the joy of Zambezi.

My name is Katy Topness, as you can read, I have found so many new role models and friends over the course of this trip. People who I would just walk past without a thought just a month ago have become a part of my story and my life at the same time. I thank these people for showing me how to accompany each other as we go through this new experience together. I will continue to look up to my peers who are actually walking aside me accompanying me through life. Without these people, this trip will not be the same, every one of these people has taught me something about living life and I am thrilled to do life with them going forward. The quintessence of life.

Katy Topness
School of Business Administration, Class of ‘27

PS, We are heading for an overnight in the rural town of Dipilata, so our next blog post won’t be until Wednesday.

PSS, I have a suggestion: Instead of commenting on my post, comment about the reason you read the blog, your Zag or Zags. I would love to hear what each person on this trip adds to your life.

Sorry for the long post, if you don’t know me personally feel free to skip this part:

• mom

Over the duration of this trip I have though a lot about all you have done for me the throughout my life and I am forever grateful for you and how you inspire me every day. You teach me so much daily and I miss your wisdom here in Zambezi and I can’t wait to tell you all about it, I’m alive and safe btw. 

Speaking of all you do for me…

Text came through saying my prescription is ready at the rite aid on kitsap way!

• Dad

Thank you for always encouraging me to do my best and try my hardest in life. I have forever grateful for the sacrifices you have made to allow me to go on this trip. I am truly learning so much here and I know you are proud of me on this trip.

• Ali

I know you did so so good being Dorothy in your ballet!!! I can’t wait to watch it 🙂 also happy early 15th b day, stay safe in drivers ed, see yah soon sis!

• the Frank clan! I can’t wait to see you all over the summer, I miss you and the girls so much and have some awesome photos of animals from the safari to share with Mila and Remi!
• Mimi

Thank you for helping me go on this trip, I love and miss you so so much and hope you are rocking your new hair style! 

• Grammy

I’m alive and safe, I am also so ready to jump in the pool when I venture back to Washington, I expect a new floaty and some sugar rolls, I love and miss you.

• Freja

Thanks for commenting my bestie, I hope you are well and so so so can’t wait to see you and 10 for 10 again, I have someone here for this purpose but it sometimes just makes me miss you more

• My “aunties” or the Katy fan club, thank you for reading and following along on this experience I miss you ladies so very much. Thank you for being my second moms throughout my life and always encouraging me to do things like this
• Franny

Threw it on the ground coming on in our blend last night while making jambalaya really made me think of u

• Marissa 

Miss you so so much, can’t wait to see you and the fam very soon! Hopefully your kidney is ok at least and no more chemo is needed for a while! 

• Bean

I miss you girl, thank you for following along and I hope to see you in Missoula or Spokane soon!

• 917 ladies and gents

Idk if yall are even reading this but I miss you all more than you know and Georgia and honorary roommate Alexia I am so excited for the rest of the summer with you!

Mom and Freja, I hope you get this to the right people 🙂 

From a young age, I have always craved a sense of control. Hiding in my comfort zone was the easiest way to do this, as it was familiar and reliable. While I have grown increasingly aware of how this pattern limits my life, I still struggle with confronting the unknown. If you don’t know me, my name is Natalie, or as many of my teachers have called me: the girl with many questions. Although I am naturally curious, my wonders go beyond what is rational, often causing me unnecessary anxiety. Coming to Zambia, I knew this would be a challenge, which was both terrifying and also the reason I wanted to go. I knew that I needed an extreme change in order to fully confront this ongoing pattern of resistance. As my parents have always told me, “When we leave our comfort zone, it expands.” This has become especially relevant while in Zambia, which is full of change, the uncomfortable and the unknown. No matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, this is when we grow as humans. If we were always comfortable and in control, we would never change. When we push ourselves not only to leave our comfort zone, but stay outside of it, we begin to harness our potential.

Knowing all this, I still struggle with retreating back to my comfort zone when things become “too much.”  However, no matter how much I try to convince myself that staying in the familiar is the only safe place, I am often proven otherwise. On this trip in particular, these beliefs have been consistently challenged. For example, when I roomed with Cate, Becca, Kamy, Sarah and Caroline O, the fear that I wouldn’t make any friends on this trip so I shouldn’t try was quickly disproven. When I jumped off a bridge with Sarah by my side, starting a conversation with a stranger no longer sparked panic. While in Zambia, I have collected evidence that little things don’t seem as scary anymore when one’s circle expands and put these small moments into perspective. This has also helped me realize that eventually it becomes more frightening to remain timid rather than trying new things, breaking the illusion of safety within our barriers.

However, I’ve also recently learned that it’s necessary to recognize and advocate for yourself when you need to take a breath. Sometimes if you don’t allow yourself to reset, all of the change can quickly become overwhelming and make you feel like an imposter.  I realized the significance of this when Lucia and Carly walked back early with me after the canoe rides, when I unexpectedly broke down in tears, unable to pinpoint what was “wrong.”  After I calmed down, I was able to more clearly recognize that I hadn’t taken any time to process all of the change that was happening. With all of these new experiences, I was scared that if I stopped even for a second, I would become stuck in my comfort zone and stop growing. While it’s important to push yourself, it’s also vital to take a step back once in a while. My classmates, now friends, and members of this community have all helped me begin to understand that we can’t fully absorb the change we are experiencing if we avoid reflection. Zambians especially value connection and taking the time to enjoy things, challenging my habits of rushing through this stage.

This reminds me of the Zone of Proximal Development, a theory developed by Vygotsky that we learned about in my education classes. This is the zone between what we are capable of doing on our own vs. what we need help with, often utilized in educational settings. This theory has become especially relevant during my time in Zambia and helps prove to me through research and evidence, that we aren’t supposed to feel comfortable all the time. Here, the community is my classroom and my Zone is the space between the familiar and unknown. I have realized that I must challenge both my students and myself to continually strive for this Zone. This is where change happens. This is where it begins.

At home, I often find myself stuck between this all-or-nothing mindset. I’m scared that if I take time to rest, I’ll never get up again. Simultaneously, if I keep trying to experience everything, I won’t truly understand the significance and quickly become overwhelmed. My time in Zambia is continuing to help me find a balance between these two extremes. Piper and Sean have shown me that there are always ways to help out in our space. Becca, Cate and Caroline O prove to me that I will have people to lean on when I need support. Sarah and Katy are always there to listen when I need to express my thoughts and worries late at night. Kamy helps me to try to find the positive in every situation. Caroline M and Taylor remind me to get out of my head when playing, “Taco, Cat, Goat, Cheese, Pizza.” Kathleen and Carly provide a safe space to ask questions and spark curiosity. Lucia, Jeff and James remind me the importance of showing up for each other, our community and ourselves. Sloane and Alea exemplify excitement for learning that inspires me to do the same. Ellie and Mia help me find laughter in new experiences and embrace the unknown. I will never be able to do everything at once, but I also want to challenge myself to grow through the uncomfortable. I am starting to find more comfort in the unknown, not quite in my comfort zone, but a new, undiscovered area which pushes me not only to discover new potential, but harness it.

To my family, thank you for always pushing me to do things outside of my comfort zone and supporting me through new experiences.

To my friends and roommates, thank you for listening and being there for me while I navigate these different zones.

Taylor, happy (almost) birthday! I know it’s not for a few days but wanted to wish you a happy 20th until I can again in person. I love you so much and can’t wait to tell you about the giraffes.

I can’t wait to see you all soon. Please keep commenting when you can, love being surprised when your names pop up😊

Natalie Popma
School of Education, Class of ‘27

I have been fortunate to spend my mornings shadowing and learning from the doctors and nurses at the Zambezi District Hospital. The first day I spent in the hospital, I was overcome with emotions: feeling like an imposter, waves of gratitude for my life, and sadness for the state of the hospital. I witnessed volunteers performing medical treatments that, from first glance, seemed unsuitable. I followed Dr. Clayton (one of two doctors in the hospital), hearing him tell several patients that they need blood transfusions. But the hospital doesn’t have a blood bank, so the only course of action was to wait. I saw many patients sick with malaria, but lacking treatment due to the hospital running low on antibiotics. I walked away after my first day with frustration about the care people in this community were receiving and the lack of resources that are needed to sustain life. I decided to take a step forward and entered the study table.

Over the course of the next few days, I invested my time into learning about the history of healthcare and exposed myself to new realities. Today, I was introduced to Saviour, the public health environmental specialist for the district hospital. He welcomed me and Ellie into his office with open arms and shared some of the goals of the public health department. After a few minutes of getting to know each other, he stood up and ushered us out of the room. We got into a car and drove to the District Council of Zambezi, where we met the public health director, Miyoba. She shared with us her journey into this role, challenges she faces as a female in power, and answered almost all my nagging questions. I learned that the volunteers are working to pursue further medical careers and spend their time helping however they can make a difference. These individuals are driven, and provide the nurses, doctors, and patients with uncanny support. I recognize the challenges this hospital faces, such as lack of funds, and I respect the work ethic individuals have and their desire to make the best of what they have. I learned about the weekly outreach programs to support immunizations and safety checks to villages and the educational programs held throughout the community. I encourage you to join me at the study table. Reflect on uncomfortable moments and treat them as an opportunity to learn, grow, and challenge yourself. As a former student who went on this trip shared with us, “Temporary discomfort leads to permanent improvement.”

One of my goals for my time in Zambezi was to lean into every moment, say yes, and be curious. I don’t know how to encapsulate all the amazing moments and connections I have had here, so a small list is the best I can do for now.

• During the scavenger hunt, we met Wonda and her sister who took us to their home and gave us a bag full of lemons when we only needed two
• Starting meaningful conversations with my homestay family by defending my personal beliefs opened room for respect and curiosity
• Riding a motorcycle with Sarah to go to a church with our homestay family where we were welcomed by everyone through singing and dancing
• Spending the day cooking and connecting with Mama Katendi and Mama Kristine…we ate A LOT of gnocchi
• Connecting with the students in the health class and seeing their growth throughout this past week by engaging and understanding difficult health topics
• Watching the sunset and connecting with everyone in the ZamFam
• Playing against the Zambezi Boarding school girls soccer team, which we unfortunately lost 2-1. Don’t worry, though, they challenged us to a rematch

These past few weeks at Zambezi have been full of love, community, growth, and resilience. As a group we have faced and overcome a variety of challenges ranging from ongoing toilet (and water) problems, navigating how to cultivate meaningful relationships, planning engaging content for the daily classes, what to do with the mysterious milk in the fridge, and for James, losing an intense game of cribbage after some absurd trash talk. A mere waf-waf as some might say. Despite these mishaps, we have come together to provide support and compassion for each other. Daily routine and mundane tasks turning into dance parties and games, trips to the market, playing with the kids outside, and nightly reflections have shaped our community. A community where everyone and every idea is accepted with grace, with recognition that we all share the human condition of love, hope, meaning, pain, and loss. As we enter the second half of our time here in Zambezi, I hope this group continues to see how amazing, inspiring, and determined we all are. I am excited to be present and enjoy accompanying you all now, and even when our time here comes to an end.

Thank you to all my family and friends for your love and support during this journey, I could not do this without you. Mom, I miss you and maybe it’s a good thing I can’t get those weekly plant picture updates. Can’t wait to see you and Nana soon. Jonathan, I love you and thank you for your unconditional support, I am so excited to hear about your Germany adventures. Miss you all!

Love, Sloane Wehrman
Class of 27

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