Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

In Zambezi, the community speaks both Lunda and Luvale. Every human I have encountered speaks at least one of these if not both as well as English as well as Bemba or Chichewa or also Swahili. We had dinner with Fr. Richard Mulenga (Richard 1) last week and he counted 11 languages that he spoke and his example is not out of the ordinary. This is incredibly humbling for us Zags as, for the most part, the only language we speak is English. We stutter and struggle over “chimena mwane” and “ngunasakwilila mwane” (good morning and thank you). Every recipient of these phrases gently corrects us and gives us an encouraging smile. No matter how many Lunda/Luvale lessons that Mr. Kasepa gives us during our afternoons, I do not believe that the zags will master these languages by the time we leave. 

Instead, we are relying on a different form of communication. One that is visible in the eye contact and greetings that Zambians deliver like the special three-part handshake that Mr. John Mwewa gives when you get to know him better or Mama Christine’s comforting hugs. On Sunday morning, the homily that Fr. Richard Chipulu (Richard 2) gave during mass centered around the sentence “be bound by your humanity”. He was talking about us chindeles obviously sharing different cultural backgrounds than the people that we have integrated ourselves into the community of. But he reminded us all that though we may not share the same language or the same cultural values – we are all human. 

In the essay, “Accompaniment” David Brooks speaks about “an other-centered way of moving through life. When you’re accompanying someone, you’re in a state of relaxed awareness—attentive and sensitive and unhurried. […M]ovements are marked not by willfulness but by willingness–you’re willing to let the relationship deepen or not deepen, without forcing it either way. You are acting in a way that lets other people be perfectly themselves”. This quote encapsulates the relationships that we have established here in Zambezi both inside and outside the convent. 

Before travelling to Zambia, we knew the many differences between the cultures we have been born and raised with and the one we were about to spend five weeks immersed in. While the differences were highlighted, what we did not fully expect was the ways in which our humanity is shared. 

The moments where I have felt closest to members of the Zambezi community were those in which we were not speaking at all. Moments of this shared humanity. Mama Christine and I had a beautiful moment sitting on the porch, not speaking but instead working on a shared task together. In this case it was plucking six chickens (yuck!) but sitting there with her and putting our energy together into one shared goal was all that we needed to feel closer. It is also felt when watching Ms. Matesu, Hannah, and my mentor teacher for Grade 7 at Chileña Primary, while she is teaching in Lunda. I don’t understand the words she is saying but I am able to feel the lessons through the engagement of her students and her passion for this profession.  

This same sentiment was felt in my home stay with the Litwayi family this past weekend. The family had limited English and Lily, MP, and I only had error-filled Lunda to share with them. So instead, we watched the PSG vs. Arsenal game. I do not know much about Felix or Maurice but the emotion that I felt coming from them as PSG played showed me quite a bit about them. After dinner, the seven daughters/cousins came to sit with us. The oldest daughter, Melania played music and showed us all of her favorite songs (luckily Taylor swift and Gracie Abrams were included so we could sing along). The girls played with our hair and were fascinated by the photos on our camera roll. We sat in this group for a while on Saturday night and we were connected because of it. 

I also see this in the Zag fam. I was blessed to know almost every person before coming here from CLP, the CCE, and Ed. I had all the introductory conversations with these wonderful humans before traveling abroad with, but I did not yet understand the shared experiences that we would have together. This looks like how we fall into a routine at meal time, cohesively passing to the left. We know that the salt starts by Morgan and that I’ll beg for the peanut butter to be passed at breakfast. During our down time we all gather in silence to journal together, not speaking but sitting in our collective peace. Hayden and I find similar peace playing candy crush right before we go to bed. Lauryn and I had a wonderful time cutting vegetables on the porch together, listening to Brandi Carlisle. I feel extra human in our synched breathing during early morning “slow runners’ club”. I felt so seen in Hannah, Meg, and my epic kitchen dance party, not speaking but jumping up and down with smiles stuck on our faces. 

During these moments with the zags and the Zambians I truly feel “bound by our humanity.” We do not need many words to know each other and how we are feeling. 

Simply existing together is the best form of communication we can have. I am so grateful to be surrounded by so many beautiful humans in this home away from home. 

Love,
Sarah Myers

Zam Fam ‘26
GU ‘28

MESSAGES:

Pam and Joe Barron: We enjoyed Noah’s 19^th birthday, starting out with a wonderful morning run and ending with an epic game night. He is loved so big here and we had the best day celebrating him.

To my wonderful humans at home! I miss you all oodles and bunches BUT I want you to know that I am having a blast here. Every day is full of laughter and smiles and I feel like I am exactly where I need to be. See you soon! So glad we are all under the same moon. 

M&D: I love you both so very much. Thank you for supporting me through this amazing opportunity and for your consistent blog comments – they feel like hugs from you. I love you to the moon and back x infinity. GNSDILY!

Liv&Caroline: I love u both and keep telling my friends about my awesome big sisters. Can’t wait to spend time with you both!

Julia: I hope you are having a BLAST in Europe and are acquiring many stories to tell me. ILY JUJU!

Shwithi: NO WAY U MET JAKE SHANE!! Need to hear all about it! I love you sooo much Shwiggs see you sooo soon!

Claire (and Mrs. Sladovnik): we LOVE your comments here and they never fail to bring us joy and thoughtful insight. See you soon!

Growing up, I always had a fear of talking to people I did not know. I would hide behind my parents’ back and I was very shy. My family would know that I made them talk for me whenever I was introduced to a stranger. As I have gotten older, I have learned the importance of stepping out of my comfort zone and trying new things. One of those being talking to strangers. Little Lily found them to be very scary and quite tall. Throughout my life, I have always found myself being willing to try new things and step out of my comfort zone, such as trying out for new sports, starting an instrument, going out for clubs in high school and college, and just recently saying “yes” to this trip. Through each of these experiences, I have been forced to talk to people I did not know. Despite this, by making conversations with strangers, I have made some meaningful connections through each of those experiences like meeting my best friends in high school who I am so grateful to have such a meaningful connection with to this day, meeting the friends who have made my college experience amazing so far and now a new powerful connection with my ZamFam. The power of connection is that it brings us together and allows us to learn and grow from one another while also having a lasting impact.

Throughout my time in Zambia, I have learned that I must be comfortable stepping out of my comfort zone and talking to strangers in order to make a connection. Coming into this trip, my biggest fear was not being able to forge a connection with any of the Zambians I would come across. I have learned during my time here that this fear would only linger for so long.

The first example of a connection that was formed was with my safari tour guide, Mr. T. He told us about his passion for animals and his experience growing up in the bush. Something I believe is a true gift is being able to forge a connection with animals since they cannot speak to us. Being an avid animal lover and someone who says, “aww so cutie” or “hi sweetie” to every animal I see, I found Mr. T’s connection to the wildlife we saw to be inspiring. He followed his dreams and now has the privilege of teaching people about animals. This reminded me of when we got an impromptu tour of the University of Zambia given by Dr. Mwanza. At the end of his tour, he told us, “Lead a purpose driven life and let’s change the world together. Do what makes you happy, keep following your passions. Consistency is the ultimate key.” I have thought about this every day, but especially on the safari because Mr. T followed his passions and is striving to make the world a better place by educating visitors on the importance of respecting and protecting our wildlife. This inspires me to follow my passion to save as many animals as I can, so people like Mr. T can educate our society on animals and together, we can make an impact on this world. By making connections with people even in the smallest ways, we can gain knowledge, grow as humans, and make a difference together. In my case, forming a connection with the animals I encountered and Mr.T’s vast knowledge and expressive passion will continue to inspire me to make a difference in animals’ lives.

Throughout my time in Zambezi, the power of connection is even stronger. Whether it be walking around the market and learning about a Zambian’s family in 30 seconds, learning from the doctors and nurses in the hospital, or teaching a group of students. On the very first day in the Zambezi District Hospital, I have gained a connection to Dr. Mulongti. He has taught me how to treat patients with respect, find community in times of hardship and putting others before yourself. I have even been building connections with two nurses: Charity and Jane. Their willingness to take time out of their day and give us a 20-minute lesson on an illness or medication, or being open to discussing the disparities in the hospital just shows how welcoming and friendly the Zambian people have been to me. Learning to be comfortable in starting a conversation with people I once did not know has now led me to create a connection with individuals who are striving to make a difference in their patients’ lives, their community, and make me feel welcomed to a foreign place.  The connections forged have been a meaningful part of my experience.

Additionally, I have begun to form a connection with Mama Katendi and Mama Christine. A few days ago, I was Mama’s assistant where I helped them prepare lunch and dinner for my ZamFam. For some reason I was terrified going into it because I didn’t know the conversations I should have. Despite my fear, they instantly welcomed me and made me feel like I belonged. They taught me how to properly peel an onion, cut cabbage into small pieces as well as how they prepare rice here. They even trusted me enough to cut all the fruit and vegetables for dinner. Also, Mama Katendi kindly let me play the entire Harry Styles discography (yes, all 2 hours and 51 minutes) after I said he was my favorite artist (I’m still unsure if I converted her to fan or not lol). After homestays, both Mamas gave the Zags a hug and said they missed us. Mama Christine taught Lauryn and I how to say, “Welcome home” in Luvale. The health group even got her to dance along with us to “Meet Me Halfway” in one of our pre-hospital dance-it-out moments. From being strangers a week ago, to now being able to make memories with them, I feel as though I have already made a powerful connection with both and the interactions I have had will stick with me when I return home.

Lastly, the connections I am developing with my ZamFam is one to be grateful for. After being complete strangers back in January and scared to talk to everyone, to now being the people who I have laughed the hardest with in a long time is something so meaningful. From jumping off Batoka Bridge together, to the health group dancing it out to “Beauty and a Beat” before walking to the hospital. To our daily market adventures, sunsets, and connections made through Homestays. To figuring out how to cook breakfast for the whole ZamFam while listening to our Spotify playlist. To learning how to properly dance from the Gabbie’s (the St. Gabriel’s Youth Organization at Our Lady of Fatima), to having our Mamma Mia moment and dancing and singing to “Dancing Queen” in the kitchen at 10:30pm. The connections I have forged are some that I will never forget. Learning how to navigate through the unknowns, new places, and challenges with my ZamFam by side has made me extremely grateful that I stepped out of my comfort zone, put myself out there and said “Yes” to this trip. Learning to humanize, accompany, and complicate with this group of Zags has made every connection developed so powerful. The connections forged with my ZamFam have made this journey so beautiful.

With love,
Lily Fisher

ZamFam 26
Class of 2029

Notes to family:

Mom, Dad, and Brennan: I miss you all so very much, words cannot even describe. Mom, it is so weird not watching the World Series with you this year, but I appreciate all the updates given so far. Any more updates? At my Homestays we drank black tea and it made me think of our Starbucks runs and you ordering black tea.  Also, do you have any Harry Styles updates? I must know his setlist, I am so curious. Tell the family I say hello. Dad and Brennan, I have seen so much old Chicago sports merch, and it’s made me think of you every time. Do you have any Cubs updates? How is PCA doing? Also, Dad, you would be proud of how many “figure it out” moments I have had, but then actually figured it out! Love you all so much and cannot wait to see you so soon! Please keep me updated on your daily lives. Get hype for a Michigan drive and Starbucks debrief soon!

P.S. I will be thinking of you all on the 6^th and tell the Gerards I say hello, and I am thinking of them as well. Take pictures if you can and let me know how it goes.

To the rest of my family: I love and miss you all so much. I cannot wait to see you soon, debrief my experience, and hear all about what you are up to. Thank you for reading along on this journey!

To my friends at school: I miss you all so much and I cannot wait to debrief everything with you. I hope you are enjoying your summer, talk to you so soon! (In a spooky way)

To my Illinois friends: I miss you all so so so much and I cannot wait for an Olive Garden and Andy’s debrief. See you so very soon!

My parents used to perform a song called “Get Jam on It.” It sounds as silly as it is! When we were putting jam on toast, they’d sing and dance to the lyrics “get jam on it” over and over again. Laughing, dancing, and teasing while my siblings and I cringed for every second that it lasted, and often closed our eyes in protest. I cringed, but it was setting the precedent for the energy that I’d carry with me throughout my life. Dancing in our kitchen, performing songs by standing on our dinner table bench, and never hearing anything other than encouragement to be my full authentic self.

My ability to be positive and energetic throughout the easy and challenging moments of my life stems from my parents’ ability to focus on the positive and embrace what life throws at you. Breaking a plate or spilling milk, burning cookies or accidentally totally the minivan within the first week of having my license. Their responses have set the example that it does not take much more effort to keep a smile on your face and recognize that everyone around you is better off when your disposition stays positive.

Senior year of high school my classmates voted me Class Clown, a reflection of my daily interactions being based in humor and high energy. Community awards and leadership positions have never come as a challenge, I have always moved through life able to make friends, start conversations, and find something to laugh about. Over spring break my dad and I drove for an hour to go for a walk on the beach. We stepped out of the car and after about five seconds realized that we couldn’t see anything due to the wind and the sand. We laughed and laughed and laughed. Two hours of driving for “nothing,” except it wasn’t nothing. I can remember laughing so hard it was hard to breathe and being excited for more time in the car to listen to music.

This Gonzaga in Zambezi experience excited me primarily due to the opportunity it provides to build connections and relationships with people who have entirely different perspectives. There is a whole different set of stars on this side of the world! I felt confident in my ability to bring my energy to this new environment. I felt confident in my ability to connect and build relationships. I have moved across the country twice and found belonging both times. Expecting any part of this experience and new environment to resemble my moves from somewhere in the United States to somewhere else in the United States was naive.

The energy was easy the first week of this trip. Running through the downpour of water coming from Victoria Falls. Laughing, dancing, and laying in the puddles. Hugging each other and taking a sensory memory every few minutes. Admiring the giraffes, elephants and lions we saw in Chobe National Park. Creating a magnificent theme song, dancing (scuba-ing) at every animal we saw, and becoming friends with our tour guide, Gee. Getting to know and love ZamFam26 outside of Spokane. Landing in Zambezi and being greeted with an extremely talented choir, it still felt easy. To connect and to play with the children that seem to be permanently stationed outside of the convent.

The past blogs have all been very positive and shared a lot of the joys we’ve experienced. I want to echo my love for the Zambezi community and the way we have been welcomed. I love the music, I love the dancing, I love the market and I love the love for football. I love the vibrant culture. At the same time, I am also grappling with little girls telling me they wish they were born where I was born, that they wish they were beautiful like me. Wearing my skin color and having the accent that I do is a blatant sign of wealth and privilege, and it has felt jarring and at times disrespectful to the community to walk around and disrupt daily Zambezi life.

That early ease was further complicated when I stepped into the Zambezi District Hospital for the first time. I’ve understood that this is not a trip where we “save” or “fix.” We have the opportunity to learn and observe, but it did not make the experience any easier. I immediately felt powerless. I could not find the energy or joy that has been a constant throughout my life. Eighteen beds in the one-room children’s ward. The beds line the walls with just a yard or so in between each one. Cracks along the walls and ceiling, toilet paper being used as a streamer for decoration, mattresses on the floor, and a clear lack of resources. Mothers comforting their sick and crying children, many of whom are sick with malaria. Every morning, I take a pill to ensure I do not get malaria, a privilege that seemed small until I saw what not having access to that does. In my powerlessness I put my head down and avoided eye contact. It felt much more comfortable to let Dr. Mulongti teach us about the pathology of malaria. That is not why we are here, though.

What can I do for a child so sick her eyes are swollen shut? What can I do for a little boy with burn wounds from the waist down? What can I do for a man with maggots crawling out of his leg? What can I do for a little boy who is screaming, crying, and begging during a procedure with little to no anesthetic? My positive, energetic disposition has never felt so useless.

I know I am privileged. The university I attend, the support system I am surrounded by, and a healthy body. I am lucky beyond words, and I have known that for as long as I can remember. But I’ve struggled when comparing my life to what I understand of the lives I see being lived here. The gratitude I feel for my life at home seems almost irrelevant as I observe some of the conditions I see here. In some moments, my gratitude has shifted to guilt and my energy has diminished.

A pit of guilt sits in my stomach. Guilt because of everything I have casual access to. Guilt because who am I to stand and observe for 3 weeks, just to return to my privileged life. I feel guilty that I have never had to doubt if my family was receiving the best healthcare possible. This is an incredible privilege in the United States as well, but sitting in the male ward, seeing elderly men laying in beds with conditions made worse by the fact that they attempted to treat it at home to avoid the hours of travel to the district hospital, I feel guilty.

I am reminded that six weeks ago I sat on the edge of my grandfather’s hospital bed. The machines were annoying and disrupted our conversations, the room felt cramped, and it felt like every time he wanted to sleep someone would come in for respiratory therapy. My yearning was to spend time with him, but I feel guilty that I ever considered these things to be anything other than a privilege. The patients and doctors in Zambezi would do anything to be annoyed by machines taking vitals.

After spending a few more days in the hospital, I have had a shift. Observing the nurses and the doctors interact with each other and interact with their patients has allowed the energy that felt diminished to come back. I watch Dr. Mulongti greet almost every person he sees as he walks from the Pediatric Ward to the Male Ward and I watch the nurses collaborate to figure out the best course of action for a patient while working with limited resources. I have felt so impressed with all the creativity, community, and passion that goes into helping patients.

During rounds in the Peds ward, I found myself making eye contact with a little boy. He was cuddled underneath a blanket, clearly uncomfortable. I stuck my tongue out, because that is my first instinct when holding eye contact with a child. I immediately saw a smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple on each cheek. I continued to stick my tongue out in various ways (got really creative). His smile grew and his energy was brightened. I missed what Dr. Mulongti said about his condition and status, but I realized quickly that I valued the moment of connection and play over what I could’ve learned about his medical condition. That is what I can do. I can pick my head up and make eye contact. I can make eye contact with a mother comforting her sick daughter and offer a hand to her back and silly faces to pause the tears. I can make an effort at a Lunda or Luvale greeting and strive to Humanize every person I interact with.

Meg Baxter
ZamFam ’26
GU Class of 2028

Messages!!

Happy birthday Michael! I hope you are taking time for yourself even if you have another 10 hour shift. Love you and miss you more than you know! -Noah

DAD- I feel you in the music I am surrounded by! In the Chris Stapleton that plays while we do the dishes and in the music at mass that I know you would love (think beachy). Electric guitars even get whipped out; you would fit right in! I love you to the moon and back times infinity plus one.

MOM- I feel you in the moments of dancing! When the health group does a shake out dance party before we head to the hospital and when a secondary school girl teaches me how to move my hips. I also am wishing I had your watermelon whispering skills. I love you MORE. I promise.

Mom/Dad- Sarah, Hannah, and I had the most electric dance party in the kitchen last night. I am so excited for our next kitchen dance party. I feel so lucky to miss you both so much!

Mommom- I have always admired your ability to spark up conversations and make friends everywhere you go, I am trying to embody that trait! I am pretty sure some water droplets that touched me at Victoria Falls are the same ones that touched you years ago, and some of the animals I saw in Botswana met you and Baba already. Love and miss you so much.

Lee Ellen- I miss you bunches. I cannot believe it is summer and I haven’t been at the lake yet or had Barbara force feed me hotdogs and desserts. I cannottttt wait for the mega debrief. ALSO MCAT OF 508 BEFORE STUDYING IS CRAZY! I miss your bed and poppi and suzi. Give your fam big hugs from me! Also dennis would HATE the motocycles. LOVE YOU x1000000! Tell izzy to lock in on the blog.

Siblings- Ella you are my favorite because you comment. Not bringing a souvenir to anyone else! Phoebe I made banana bread with Mama K and thought of you.

Juju- You are so weird and I miss you everyday. Keep running because a half is in our future, with Jo of course!!! I cannot wait to jump into your arms. Sam and I talk about you daily and trio reunion is going to be insane. I LOVE YOU JUJ!

Julia G- MY FUTURE ROOMIE! I am so excited. I miss you so much and I cannot wait to live in the same house as you. I think about you when Megan, Noah, or Harry songs play…maybe we need to expand our music. I LOVE YOU!

Morgan- MOMO! I am soooo excited to hear about Delft. I love you more than anything and cannot wait for the insane debrief that is going to happen in 2 weeks. You are my favorite. Can’t wait for a Mo hug. I love you love you love you.

As many of my family and friends know, I have found myself surrounded by many communities in my life. Whether it be dancing on the streets of Costa Rica with strangers at a market as a little girl, spending extra hours after school with my friends, or sitting around the wooden table for family dinners at my grandparents’ house filled with laughter and reminiscing, community and its powerful purpose always show up in my life. Shoutout to my amazing Nana for making the best foods in the world!

A few months prior to leaving for Zambia, my church did a unit on the concept of community being a necessity for everyone. I walked out of this service feeling revived, grateful, and more aware of the communities that I am a part of, each of them bringing a different light into my life. These communities now include my amazing Zam Fam. As we all shuffled into the airport two weeks ago, the sense of belonging immediately struck me. From the moment we checked our bags, made it through security, and sat in the largest circle of young adults possible at an airport, I immediately felt accepted and at home. My fellow Zags began getting to know each other, sharing stories, small talk, and laughter as we anxiously waited for our first flight to board.

My observations thus far of Zambians and how they live their lives in unity and accompaniment has made me think deeply about the purpose and importance of surrounding yourself with communities, and how I can improve as a member of my various communities back home and at school. Whenever you leave home here (in Zambezi), you are greeted with warm smiles and loud hellos from across the street as you walk down the market roads. You are greeted with hordes (and I mean HORDES) of children as you walk outside of the convent walls, all of them eagerly awaiting a game of “do as I do” or football. As you walk around the neighborhood, you cannot help having conversations with people who you run into because they want to know you deeply in the few moments you spend together. I can’t help but think about what would happen at home if I knocked on a random woman’s door and asked for six lemons from her lemon tree. I can tell you I would not end up in a twenty-minute conversation about where they came from, how long they have lived in their homes, and about how she loves the community that she lives in.

The first weekend of our trip in Zambezi, we attended a church service at Our Lady of Fatima Parish. Going into this service I was anxious about how my presence in the church was going to be taken. I knew nothing about how the service worked, the language they spoke, or what attitudes would be toward me joining a very sacred service. Despite what looked like a full sanctuary, the members of the church happily gathered benches for us, clapped, danced, and sang with us as the talented choir showed their beautiful music and songs. My anxieties faded with the continuous smiles, warm hellos, and head nods of acceptance from the parish members. This feeling continued as a young girl came up to me, unprompted, and sat on my lap mid-service. At first, I was worried about what may come from this little girl who I had no relation to sitting on my lap. “Will her mom worry about who I am and what I am doing with her daughter?”, “what happens if she starts to cry?”, “am I doing something wrong by embracing this young girl and dancing with her? I don’t even know her name.” were some of the thoughts that began to run through my head. To make my long story short, this young girl ended up falling asleep on my lap for the rest of the service, and no one batted an eye. If I did get the occasional look from a resident, it was more of a look of acceptance and approval rather than one of confusion or disapproval.

This small experience is the backbone of what the Zambezi community is, and what it means to be a part of it. Jeff puts it best when he says, “when you are a child of Zambezi, you are everyone’s child.” This quote not only applies to the little ones, but the “big” ones too. I have learned to value the long conversations on the side of the road, mothers letting you play with their babies and children, and the members of the community opening their homes to us as we went on homestay. It has shown me the importance of having an open mind and an open heart to everyone I encounter, and how a small act of showing others your traditions and families is what makes a community strong. The Zambezi community has truly been a blessing to become a part of.

In the States, we tend to stay to ourselves in a comfortable bubble of what feels safe to us, instead of broadening our communities and inviting people into our hearts. It has become clear to me in my few weeks here that community is less about comfort and conformity, but acceptance, excitement with newness, and a willingness to assume best intent of the people around us.

Community is truly a necessity here, and everywhere. We are raising each other up in unity, taking care of each other, and each other’s children, and welcoming strangers with open arms and hearts of love. Without community, we become lost in our own ego and selfishness. I have begun to ask myself daily, “how can I build my community, and how can I support my newfound community up as a go about my day?”.  This may mean letting a random little girl fall asleep on you at church because she became your safe space in that moment!

Family and friends… thank you for supporting us on this adventure! Your love and excitement for us is felt daily. You are all a part of this community that we continue to build here in Zambezi.

With love,

Olivia (Liv) Laurance
Class of 27’
Zam Fam 26’

Messages:

To my mom and dad, thank you for your ongoing love, support, and comments throughout this trip. I could not have done this without you and your belief in me. I am SO HAPPY to hear that the house is complete, and I cannot wait to see it. I am happily anticipating a giant Livi sandwich when I get back, and I see you in many things that I do daily. Keep sending me updates about the happenings. I miss you and I love you so dearly! XOXOXO.

To my nana and papa, you are my rock stars and my superheroes. I can’t wait for our family debrief around the dinner table after I return, and for a homecooked meal by the best chef there is. I hope there is some fruit left to eat when I get home because I’m counting on it 😉

To my fiancé Kale, for the sake of the many people reading I will keep it brief; I love you so much and I miss you daily. I wish I could be there for the big day, but you have so much support around you, and I cannot wait to hear all about your process when I get home. You’d better keep us updated on ALL things transfer portal because I, and the rest of the Zam Fam is incredibly invested. You are incredible, I love you <3

To my friends, YOU ALL ARE AMAZING!! I can’t wait to hear about summer adventures and to catch up on all the tea soon. There are many coffee dates to come. I love you!  

From Isa: Siera, Happy Graduation! I’m sad I can’t be there. Congrats, you’re finally done!

From Meg: HAPPY GRADUATION Jacky! You’re the best bonus-brother ever and you are going to kill it at Northwestern. Love you!

Each morning, I wake up to the sound of Taylor’s red speaker filling the kitchen with a different song, choices ranging from Noah Kahan to Norah Jones, Jack Johnson and more. At the beginning of the spring semester, ZamFam ’26 created a collaborative playlist for us all to add music to. While the twenty-two-hour playlist seemed insignificant at the time, it has quickly become a soundtrack for our time in Zambia. “Electric Love” playing in our headphones on the bush plane, Meg singing along to “Willing and Able” as she makes breakfast, and “You’re so Vain” making an appearance during one of our slow-runner’s club runs are just a few moments that I won’t soon forget. However, our interaction with music has extended far beyond this extensive playlist.

On our safari in Botswana, Meg, Sarah, Taylor, Emi, Lauren, and I jokingly created a song which was quickly and continually shared with everyone around us, including Jeff, the guides, strangers, and the rest of ZamFam, all of whom indulged us. Chef P, the man who made dinner for our camp, played several original songs under the name Jay Bless music, utilizing it as an opportunity to uniquely share his story of struggles but also gratitude. When we landed in Zambezi, we were greeted by singing students from Chilenga Primary School, and at mass the next morning we serenaded everyone with a Lunda song we had attempted to learn the night before. Even last night, we fell asleep to blasting music from the bars in the market and woke up this morning to the same noise as we trekked to elderly aerobics at 6am.

While some of these experiences have left me struggling for breath from laughter, I have also noticed the special and unique role music plays in life, intensifying moments of joy or struggle while simultaneously connecting us with others. It extends far beyond language barriers or cultural differences, something I have discovered is especially crucial for our time in Zambezi. It supports us on our journey without controlling our path, even expressing emotions that our own words cannot.

The other day we read a chapter from How to Know a Person by David Brooks, in which he discusses the act of accompaniment. What struck me about his writing was how he utilized music to ground one of his points:

The pianist accompanies the singer. They are partners, making something together, but the accompanist is in the supportive role, subtly working to embellish the beauty of the song and help the singer shine. The accompanist is sensitive to what the singer is doing, begins to get a feel for the experience she is trying to create.

Music is a foundational aspect of my identity, from concerts to car sing-alongs and my passion for guitar, I cannot remember a time when I did not love music wholeheartedly. Music is inclusive, inviting everyone to the table regardless of their background or status, fostering a sense of connection and community with those around us. It does not expect anything from its listeners, it does not push them to conform to certain expectations, but rather it encourages them to embrace authenticity and the joy of shared humanity. Just last night, I watched Joe’s face light up as he finally met a Zambian who owned a cello he could play, and earlier this week some of us danced along to “Party in the USA” at the market, with several Zambian women joining in.

Empathy and accompaniment are deeply significant to me, as they are often a struggle to find at home in Dallas, TX. I have witnessed division and dehumanization deeply entrenched within within my community, and as a result it has often been a great source of frustration and isolation. Rather than working to support people where they are at, I have seen harmful expectations and aggressive pressure forced onto those who are unable to meet the unrealistic standards.

I have quickly discovered during my time in Zambezi the importance of “signing onto another person’s plan,” as Brooks describes, which sometimes even looks like starting class 15 minutes late each morning because people in Zambezi operate on “Zambian time.” While I find some common cultural norms confusing at times, I am learning to appreciate others’ journey and decisions, despite conflicting views I might hold. I cannot possibly begin to understand the nuances and complications of others’ experiences that shape their choices, and it would be arrogant of me to assume otherwise.

Unlike humans, music perfectly embodies the act of accompaniment by transcending any sense of ego or self-centeredness, choosing to let go of the reins while still engaging to support, uplift, and encourage others. It does not ask questions but sits in the challenging spaces with those in struggle. It is not a transactional relationship, but it provides attention to those in need regardless of personal beliefs. I believe we all have a lot to learn from music.

Hayden Smith
ZamFam ‘26
Class of 2029

Mom, Dad, and Hudson, I miss you guys so much and I cannot wait to crush some Mexican food when I get back. We should try to make our way down to Big Bend this summer or at least to a new bookstore a few hours away. Also, Dad keep me updated on Phoebe Bridgers and Radiohead. Love you so much and say hi to Riggins for me!

Allie, Silver Springs was playing last night, and I was thinking about Get it Gorl and our dramatic sing-alongs. I also explained to everyone what the dream day in college looks like, you know what I’m talking about. I can’t wait to see you and talk till 2am when we should definitely be asleep. I hope your sleep schedule is better now that you’re not living with me 🙂

Valencia, I tried poloni the other day which is like a hot dog and then we were all talking about Seds which made me think about the absurd number of nights we ended up there. Also, Clare you need to come to Zambia because I do not think we have stopped laughing since we’ve been here and we did elderly aerobics this morning which I know you would’ve absolutely loved.

My Texas besties, I am so ready for some summer sunsets and late night debriefs at Sonic and Whataburger. We need to update our bingo card and find things to do this summer that aren’t eating and shopping, I’m literally begging.

Our safari guides in Botswana have a back-pocket full of tidbits they know will impress clients. One of their go-tos is the catalog of collective nouns: a pride of lions, a sound of warthogs, a twist of kudu a parliament of owls, a funeral of marabout storks, and so on. Interestingly, a collection of giraffes is named based on the context in which they are congregating. When walking leisurely, they are a journey of giraffes. They’re a tower when standing to graze on flora or scan for threats. If running, they are a stampede. I’ve been thinking about this in relation to our students. We all know that they are—in Spokane, where they hold doors for one another, share complaints about the Cog, change their majors, and paint their faces to cheer one another on—called a kennel of Zags.

But out in the wild, in the world outside our campus, they must be a Zig of Zags. In twenty years on faculty at Gonzaga, I’ve been in awe of generations of students who take their humanistic, liberal arts education out it into the world. I’ve traveled with students to the U.S.-Mexico border, to Chicago and Denver and Seattle and Washington, D.C. I’ve met them in Florence, and for the last twelve years here in Zambezi. And, I’ve had the pleasure of following from afar as they go on to graduate school and professional careers, as they start families, and as they become leaders for change in their communities long after they leave Spokane.  The throughline in all of these experiences is that our students are careful thinkers, always pushing themselves to grow and learn, willing and able to adapt to changing conditions. I see this in my classes at home, and it’s perhaps amplified here, as students navigate their time in Zambezi with curiosity, empathy, and a thoroughgoing drive to center dignity and love.

This year’s students are no exception. James and I got a taste of this last fall when we interviewed them, and our early assessments were confirmed as we got to know them during the Spring semester. But knowing them as they learn about Zambezi is not the same as knowing them as they come to know Zambezi. Cade and I have had the profound joy and privilege of knowing what you, their loved ones and friends, know: this is a caring, thoughtful, deeply insightful, resilient, and adaptive group of Zags. They adapted in big ways before we even arrived in Zambia: shifting expectations when our flights were rerouted due to our government’s attacks on Iran, and welcoming Cade at SeaTac with warmth and openness after learning that James wouldn’t be able join us on this journey.

On the ground, they’ve leaned on one another when they had to wait for hours before riding for even more hours as we made our to Livingstone. They hyped one another up as they took their leaps off the Batoka Bridge. They’ve asked meaningful questions about their roles and purposes here, about how language and colonial history inform our presence in Zambezi, and about the global disparity in access to high quality public healthcare (both here and at home). They’ve shed more than a tear or two when hearing your “voices” in the comments. They’ve gone without water, eaten with their hands, embarrassed themselves in Lunda and Luvale, and learned to say “yes,” “no,” and “I don’t know” in probably more ways than Cade and I realize. They’ve checked in on one another, accompanied one another in the market, collaborated on the correct decision NOT to climb the water tower. They’ve prayed for you as you’ve been assailed by the firewall, and they’ve sought knowledge about Zambezi by spending time with local community members. They’ve also been vulnerable about their homesickness and their anxieties around not wantig to be disrespectful to Zambians, their anxieties around teaching and learning well, their anxieties around wanting to do all of this “right.” And we haven’t even been in Zambezi a week!

I’m eager to watch as they continue to grow over the next two-and-a-half weeks, and I’m equally grateful that you’ve all said yes to allowing me and Cade to share in this experience with your wonderful loved ones. Irrespective of what we encounter, I know this crew of Zags will zig with wisdom, care, and love.

Kisu mwane,

Jeff Dodd, Associate Professor, English Department
Cade Christensen, Coordinator, Intensive English Program

I did marching band for years in high school, and we often talked about our balance point in marching. You must find your balance point, before you are able to move on to more complex techniques. I’ve learned that that is very similar to life. You must remember to go back to the basics before you are able to deal with and try more complex things. Going on this trip, I didn’t really know what to expect. Family and friends would ask me what I was looking forward to most on this trip, and I honestly didn’t have an answer, as I didn’t know what to expect. I had seen photos of Zambezi from years past and knew some of the stereotypes about Africa but didn’t know anything else. However, what I didn’t expect was how some of my stereotypes would play out, as well as how I would experience stereotypes related to being an American in Zambia.

Being a white, middle-class female from the Seattle area, I’ve never been in the minority. There have always been people who look like me, speak the same languages as me, and have had similar life experiences to me. Being in Zambia, I have experienced a feeling I’ve never felt before. Meeting Zambians has been fantastic, but after each interaction, I am left with lingering thoughts. They ask me where I am from, and I respond with America. I have been met with varying responses. Some of these include, “Please bring me back to America so I can have a better life” to “I love Americans, so I will give you a discount” to “If you give me money, I can provide for my family,” and these interactions have left me torn.

Although we are in the minority here, it is a different type of minority than being in the minority in the United States. We are seen as powerful, and wealthy. This means that although we are just here to learn and work on our teaching skills, we are idolized just for being from America. Coming on this trip, we knew that this was not a mission trip in the slightest. However, some of the people that I have interacted with have almost expected us to be on a mission, and in some ways, they expect us to save them. This feeling has left me feeling icky, and I have had to balance the feelings of guilt, alongside a lot of confusion.

I’ve had this recurring thought and issue of balancing throughout my time in Zambia. Whether balancing emotions, or balancing physically, the theme is constantly occurring. When we first landed in Lusaka, one of my first thoughts was, “Woah! The women balance things on their head! I thought that was just a stereotype.” However, along this journey, I have learned that this is not a stereotype, but rather a way of transportation, culture, and truly a science. After seeing this practice daily, I’ve grown a huge deal of respect for this aspect of the culture.

When visiting the market, we see a variety of people, and they all have different thoughts about Americans. For example, when buying chitenge at the market, they upcharge us, as they know we can afford it. While still extremely affordable to us, it’s interesting to see how much of a difference in price there is simply based on racial or national identity (usually Zambians pay about 35 Kwacha for cotton, while I paid 75 Kwacha for it). These mental balances of being seen as wealthy because I don’t look like the people here leave me with a sense of shame. Throughout this trip, we’ve had to adapt to various physical balances as well. Some of these include balancing our bags on the bush planes, balancing ingredients when cooking meals, and balancing on the edge before making the choice to jump off a bridge or glide along a zipline. No matter the day or the challenges, the theme of balance keeps occurring in various forms.

Our time in Zambezi has already been nothing short of complex, but I know I have my fellow group of Zags to remind me of the basics. They remind me to be present in the moment, to make time for conversation, and to allow room to make mistakes and grow. I hope to continue to try more complex things during my time in Zambezi, knowing that I have this group to fall back on to help me balance the challenges, moments of growth, and the discomforts.

With lots of love,

Katie Gilkinson
Zam Fam 2026
Gonzaga Class of 2028

Notes to my friends and family:

Mom-I miss you so much and I can’t wait to share pictures with you and tell you funny stories. I miss our impromptu chats, and sending random pictures of the dogs, or random things I see. I’ve found joy in experiencing the markets and know you would have had so much fun in the markets as well. I’m excited to give you a big hug when I see you at the airport. I have been well fed here, so don’t worry about that! Give Karen and my puppies a big kiss for me (especially Dukey…)

Berto: I hope you had a great birthday. I got to fly the bush plane for about 15 minutes on our way to Zambezi (it was a Cessna 210). Your YouTube videos ACTUALLY came in handy (who would have thought…), and I liked being able to know what different buttons meant. Also-thank you for putting my car on the trickle charger!

To any other family and friends reading this post: Thank you for following along! I’m super excited to share stories and pictures when I get back. I miss being able to talk to everyone frequently, but I know that you all are doing great!

As many of my fellow ZamFam members have already talked about, we had the opportunity to go on a safari in Botswana about a week ago. Although the animals were truly amazing, and I felt like I was living out my childhood dream of being David Attenborough, the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything we saw was a huge Baobab tree. The Baobab trees can live thousands of years. They are true witnesses to history, all the while continuing to grow. Bit by bit, they change, even if it is unnoticeable through the years, if you zoom out, the magnitude of that growth is breathtaking.

If you know me, you understand I am not the kind of person that likes to stay still. For as long as I can remember, I have been moving at breakneck speed. I have always been complemented for my drive, my willingness to throw myself into everything I do. That quality has already proved itself valuable this trip. However, now that we are in Zambezi, settling into a new way of life, our pace has slowed. We are all beginning to fall into a comfortable routine, teaching our classes and going to the hospital or school. As we all slow down, I find myself feeling impatient. When is this life-changing perspective shift going to take place? When do I start to grow into the better person that I want to become using what I have learned here? With these questions, doubts also begin to creep in. Am I doing this wrong? Am I not doing enough? What if I walk away from this trip as the same person that my mom dropped off at the airport all those days ago? I worry that the expectations I had for myself and for this trip might be falling flat. All those conversations we had in class this past spring about managing expectations were beginning to make a lot more sense….

Today, Meg, Graley, Lily, and I spent our first morning observing at Zambezi District Hospital. After our allotted 3 hours, I was grappling with a lot of feelings, but those doubts had quieted. Although I had difficulty coming to terms with the condition of the hospital and the access to necessary medication and supplies, I was blown away by the interactions I witnessed. The doctors, nurses, patients, and family members were more than just people seeking or giving care, they existed in a beautifully interconnected community with one another. All the patients in a ward are in the same room, with their beds lining the walls. At first, I had initially attributed this to merely a lack of space and resources, but after seeing the ante-natal patients sitting with each other, laughing, and sharing stories, I realized that this set up also meant that no patient had to experience their pain alone. Some time in the pediatric ward confirmed this community-oriented approach when a chorus of laughter from everyone in the room was not an uncommon event.

This interconnectedness was on par with what I have come to understand about Zambians. Witnessing this foreign way of medicine as a community affair was incredible, but even more so because all four of us were welcomed in with open arms. I finally began to understand the merit of slowing down. Even though it may have taken longer to see all of his patients, Dr. Mulongoti engaged everyone in the pediatric ward in our conversations, which seemed to provide a lot of comfort to the family members. He created a support system for these families, encouraging them to accompany one another in their separate journeys.

This experience seemed to operationalize the excerpt of David Brooks’ book How to Know a Person we reflected on as a group a few nights ago. A quote by David Whyte in the excerpt has continued to stick with me. He observed that the true gift of friendship is “the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another, to have walked with them and to have believed in them, sometimes just to have accompanied them for however brief a span, on a journey impossible to accomplish alone.” I felt this gift when Prudence, a nurse from the maternity ward who’s determined to teach us Luvale, brought us to the ante-natal ward to practice our very bad pronunciation with the patients because she herself was not familiar enough with the language. I felt this gift when Meg started making funny faces at a pediatric patient to make him smile. I felt this gift waking up bright and early to go for a run as a part of the affectionately named “Slow Runners Club.” I continue to feel this gift as I walk alongside my ZamFam as we try to navigate the mistakes, triumphs, and complexities of our new home for the next three weeks.

I am beginning to understand that this gift of friendship and accompaniment is felt most strongly in the slower moments. I am not going to be able to flip a switch and find all the answers I am looking for, but I can savor these slow moments, moments of growth and change, however minute it might be. In thinking about the Baobab tree we saw at the start of this trip, if we were to visit it on the way back to the United States, it would look the same as it did when we saw I the first time. However, the small impressions made and growth done in those slow moments over its lifetime is what created the beautiful tree that stands today.

Emi Gerwing
Proud member of ZamFam ’26, Class of 2028

To my dad, Marcy, and Miles:
I love and miss you all. We had popcorn last night and I thought of our popcorn movie nights. The health group had a dance party before heading to the hospital and I missed our dance parties on the table. I can’t wait to tell you everything.

 To my mama and Mark Mark:

I love you so much and miss you guys every day. Mama, I know you would absolutely love all of the shatenge fabric and I wish I could introduce you to the tailors we have met here. Mark, I really wish you could meet Dr. Mulongoti because I know you two would get along. Thank you both for being my cheerleaders, your comments mean the world to me, and I love starting every day with a few tears and reminders of home.

To Elli:

I hope your interview went well (I know it did because you are a rockstar). Sending love and good vibes and I am sooooooo excited to see you in July.

To my friends:

I hope you guys are ready for the devious debrief that will take place when I get back. I miss you guys. Keep being your lovely, awesome selves!

Messages:

From Katie G.:

Happy Birthday Berto! I hope you’re enjoying pepperoni and chocolate! Love you!

From Jeff to all readers: We are well aware of the firewall issues some of you seem to be having. This has never happened before, so we’re sorry it’s creating an obstacle for some of you. We’ve asked GU’s ITS to investigate it and explore potential workarounds. Thanks for your patience.

In one of my classes last semester, we talked about cycles – how we often find safety and comfort in our daily and weekly routines. For me, there is also anxiety. Anxiety that I’m not taking advantage of all the amazing experiences that life has to offer. Anxiety that I will trap myself in the ease of my routine and never push myself into anything uncomfortable. Fear that I will get stuck in a cycle and then realize one day that there are so many things I missed out on, because I was comfortable never changing.

I think I can safely say that for the past week and a half, and for the coming three weeks, I am pushing myself out of my usual routines. Not only am I on a new continent, in a new country, I’m with a somewhat random group of people (whom I have come to have so much love and gratitude for), while my friends and family are continuing on with their lives thousands of miles away – and reading this blog of course!

This morning before breakfast and our lessons, there were many blank stares as people sat in the common room and contemplated the coming day – the beginning of a new cycle and routine for us. The lessons that we get to teach here in the Zambezi community will lend some regularity to our days, but continue to provide dozens of opportunities to plan, adjust our plans, and then adjust our plans again as we adapt to the community members’ wants and needs. Today, we education students got our first glimpse into Chilenga Primary and Secondary school, and a few people got to see Zambezi Boarding School. Our health group got a tour of the hospital, and everyone got a chance to teach their first community lesson.

The unfortunate part of breaking out of routine is that it creates more fear and uncertainty. Instead of fear of being stuck in a cycle, it is the fear of something unknown. Like many of my fellow Zags, I like to know what I’m doing – that’s why I like my routines. This trip has been a crash course in facing uncertainty and learning to not be quite so scared of it. In my two days in Zambezi (and at the infamous curio market trips in Livingstone and Lusaka), I have found myself in conversations that have me sweating, heart racing because I have no idea what to say or do. Yesterday, Jeff and Taylor were kind enough to create task lists, split us into groups, and send us on our way with two hours to complete our list. The first thing for me, Liv, and Hayden, was to “pick six lemons after asking permission.” Led by a helpful herd of children, we walked to three different homes, knocked on the doors, and after promoting our community classes, awkwardly tried to slip into conversation the fact that we wanted six lemons. We eventually got our lemons (courtesy of the kids), but only after several rejections and stilted conversations.

Part of why I came on this trip was because I wanted to do something out of my regular routine and force myself to be uncomfortable. Well, I have definitely succeeded. Being uncomfortable and uncertain never seems to get any easier. However, each interaction I have teaches me a little bit more about how to react to my own uncertainty and discomfort. Looking back at all of the interactions I’ve had gives me confidence that even though I sometimes walk away cringing at some of the things I just said or the awkward silences I was unable to fill, I still made it out, hopefully a little bit wiser, and a little more prepared for the next round of interaction.

Amidst all this uncertainty has been the certainty that I made the right choice in going on this program. Even as I stumble my way through social interactions, the moments of genuine connection make every other moment of awkwardness and uncertainty worthwhile. Whether it is sitting on the porch with John and some fellow Zags talking about Zambian politics, or creating a special sign to go on the door to my room with Hayden and Sarah, laughter and insight are a constant of this unpredictable cycle I have found myself in. The constants in our days – our breakfasts together, reflection at night – prepare me for the exciting newness (and uncertainty!) that each day brings. Whether it is collecting six lemons, haggling for fridge magnets at the curio market, or unexpectedly going without water for half the day yesterday, this group, and the community around us, helps me face it with grace, confidence (or at least the appearance of confidence), and gratitude. Life in Zambezi is so different from anything I could have anticipated, but it has already taught me to anticipate the inevitable not-knowing with positivity rather than anxiety.

Hannah Sznewajs
ZamFam ‘26
Gonzaga Class of 2028

To the Greek Lemers: Yes, you finally get your blog shout out. Now everyone knows how weird you are. I love all of you so much, and I can’t wait to hear about everything you’ve gotten up to while I’m away. Boys, I found a Hardy Boys book in the storeroom today, and it made me think of you. Mom, we made French toast for breakfast, and it was nearly as good as our Mother’s Day feast. Dad, the fridge magnet negotiating in the market was for you, so I hope you’re excited. Claire, I hope you’re faring okay after graduation, and that the road trip home goes smoothly. I wish I could share everything with all of you in real time, but you can look forward to a big debrief when I get back.

• To my other Boulder fam, I love you all and miss you. Looking forward to spending time with you this summer!
• To my friends and other family: I can’t wait to update you on everything we have done! Love you, and so excited to catch up when I get back.

Messages

From Mary Pearl: Happy birthday dad! Love you so much, hope you have the best day. There’s a card for you on the fridge.

From Meg: Happy graduation, Phoebe! I love you so much and can’t believe you’re a high schooler. See you soon Bo.

If you know me, then you know my obsession with sounds, whether playing the violin, singing with my friends, or making voice memos to preserve memories. I am not exactly sure where it started, but sounds have been a defining feature in my life. I have so many auditory memories ingrained in my mind from my childhood – the pouring rain hitting the ground outside my childhood bedroom, the crickets chirping outside at the Skoot, my second home (iykyk), or the sound of the gravel road leading back to my home. This trip to Zambia has been full of new sounds with no of shortage of auditory memories; I even experienced some crickets outside my safari tent that reminded me of those at the Skoot. Because of that, I wanted to include a few bits of audio in this post, so click on the links when you see them (and maybe turn up your volume on the first two.

A few days ago, we got the opportunity to go on a two-day safari. Our guide, Tizuh, shared his knowledge and passion for wildlife for those two full days in Chobe national park. Going on safari has been a dream of mine since early childhood. I have always loved animals and wanted so dearly to see them in their natural habitat. What came as a surprise, was my fascination with the sounds and all these animals made to one another – and the vital importance of them.

The safari was a reminder that reliance on those around you is an important part of the vibrant world we get to be a part of. Tizuh, our guide, told us about the Guinea Fowl, and how these animals have a warning call that tells the surrounding animals a predator is nearby. At about 2am the following morning, I awoke to lions right outside our tent, calling each other and communicating their locations to each other.

There was one experience that stood out for me. The morning of our second day, we immediately encountered the same pride of lions we spent time with the previous day. Here is my memory of that morning: These are the sounds of the lions’ bonding with each other and our time spent alongside them. Imagine the water lapping against the shore, with the birds chirping from various surroundings. The wind is mellow, yet present and whistling in the trees. You can hear the lions quietly communicate through little roars and morning sighs. This is the memory I hold of those few minutes. Throughout this journey, I have been reminded of the three words: humanize, accompany, complicate. The safari was an incredible metaphor for our continued experience here is Zambezi.

Humanize– while “humanize” may not be the perfect word to use with the animals of Chobe, throughout the safari I was reminded that we were in these animals’ space. While many may visit and see the lions, giraffes, and crocodiles as a spectacle, it is important to change our approach. While we were on the water safari, a boat near us got too close to a grown crocodile. The crocodile responded by jumping at them and slithering into the deep water. This could be viewed as a cool video caught or a laugh to be had after (as it was by those on the boat), it is important to remember that these animals share feelings of fear and being threatened too. The crocodile was scared and felt disrespected, so it responded in that way. I think this story can be a necessary lesson for those of us entering Zambezi (and everyone reading :). Our experience of Zambezi will contain difficult events, uncomfortable interactions, and moments of frustration. It is important to remember why we are here – to learn from the people of Zambezi and share what we have to offer, while respecting the life they live.

Accompany– the evening and morning with the lions was a prime demonstration of what it means to accompany. As we entered the pride’s space, the lions slowly surrounded us. Tizuh explained that the lions will spread out as a protection tactic – if one is attacked, then others are safe and can defend if needed. Words – or in this case roars – may not have always been shared between each other, but the steady presence of each one of the lions and their willingness to defend was a form of accompaniment. At one point, the young lions were playing back and forth with each other, which Tizuh explained as a crucial way of strengthening their bonds with each other. I think that we can emulate this mindset while in Zambezi, and wherever we go in life. Bonds and relationships are vital for our continued prosperity. Although a single lion is a strong creature, it is much stronger in a pack. Or as the Zambian proverb says: you can go fast alone, but you can go far together. As we enter the next stage in our journey here in Zambia, teaching classes and learning from the community, accompaniment is becoming more and more important. Creating relationships, trust, and shared memories together with the community is very necessary for our classes and learning to succeed. Additionally, co-teaching in the classes and learning in the hospital, are impossible to do alone. Leaning on my fellow health students and the incredible medical staff in the hospital are going to become an even more important group of people to accompany and rely on. As we continue our journey, I am proud to continue to accompany those I interact with and to ask for support from those around me.

Complicate– my expectation for the safari experience turned out to be very different than I had imagined. After the water safari, Cade and I had a deep conversation about the complexities that were present in our water experience. Like the story of the crocodile snapping at the boat, our invasion of the animal’s space was a common theme throughout our time on the water. I had a tough time digesting this, as I had wanted to have the safari experience for so long and had formulated an expectation in my mind, but aspects of it felt wrong – complicated. The game drive felt quite a bit better, as Tizuh and the guides put a lot of effort into respecting the animal’s space. Despite that, I still had a hard time balancing between being conscious of the space we were invading and also being in the present so I can remember this opportunity that we get to take part in. Additionally, there was a constant power dynamic between the Guides and our group of Zags. We did our best to interact and share the experience with Tizuh though shared laughs, learning about his life, and sharing our snacks. Still, our guides are employed in an entertainment and tourism industry upon which they depend for their livelihood. As we transition to our time in Zambezi, we continue to experience complexities as we address our privilege in reflection, interactions with the locals, and a new living space. We must learn to live in that, sit with it, and reflect upon it.

My hope is to share my humanity with the Zambezi people and experience theirs, grow and learn in the complexities on this journey, and accompany my fellow Zags and the locals during our time here.

Graley Sanders
ZamFam ‘26
GU Class of 2028

To Squid: MP and I miss you all, and frequently think of you during our time here.

• Claire: I love your comments and am impressed with your foreshadowing the voice memos 😊. Sarah, MP, and I want you to keep these comments coming.
• Sarah: Every time I hear a pun, I think of you and miss you.
• Lauren: I got a Zambia soccer Jersey, and I thought of you. I almost got you a gunner’s jersey, but MP and I realized you probably had them all 😉
• Eleanor: Isa, Lauryn, and I got a lesson in a traditional dance from a group of teenage girls yesterday. I would not say it went very successfully for me but thought about how good you would be at it.
• Siena: I have thought of you many times during our time here, and how much you would love to sit and have a spontaneous conversation with some of the locals here.

To my Family: I love and miss you all so so much. Pops, I “flew” the bush plane for like 15 minutes yesterday morning and thought of you and your fascination with planes. Missing you. Mom, I have gotten several random hugs from strangers during my time here and am missing your hugs so much. Finn, we stayed a night in Chobe national park in a tent. I thought of you and how much I wish I could share this experience with you some day. Love you all so much, and give Billie a kiss for me.