Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

This is it! Today was the day we all were waiting for. Today, we arrived in Zambezi. After an exhilarating exploration of a few exotic places of the world and 24 hours of plane travel, we were all anxious to arrive in Zambezi. We had prepared for the past six months to come to this place, and it was time to see what it was all about and begin our incredible growth process.

I waited until the afternoon to make the three-hour flight to Zambezi. After what seemed like an eternity, the final eight of us hopped on a couple of teeny-tiny planes at around one o’clock. The others had been there getting sunburnt and running to the market for four hours already. I, of course, slept through the entire plane ride, thus missing much of the beautiful African scenery below. I woke up to Nick reaching back to poke me and point to the view below: it was Zambezi. I was so surprised at what I saw, not only because I was slightly disoriented from waking up, but because it was nothing like I’d imagined! Landing in Lusaka, I wasn’t surprised at all – I saw the typical tall African grass with majestic trees dotting the landscape. But here, the sparse village I had pictured was more like a very small town located along the great Zambezi River. Some homes are spread far and wide, but there was a central location for most of this large area.

As we approached the runway, my heart began beating faster and I saw children running to fences and adults pausing their work to stare at this rare occurrence. I felt this weird knot in my throat as we pulled up to the unloading area with anxious children’s faces and my fellow Zags waving at us. I was so happy and excited that I was beginning to cry; hence, the weird knot in my throat. I don’t cry when I’m happy. Ever. Today I did because 150 smiling faces were eagerly waiting to allow us into their community to grow and learn together, and this was the moment I had been waiting for, only 100 times better than I could have ever imagined. The warmth, joy, and kindness of people are unbelievable if you take the time to notice it.

Before the pilot had even gotten out of his seat, kids were pressing their faces up to the windows and vigorously waving at us. It was so surreal as this was much better than the welcoming scene I’d imagined. I couldn’t wait to get out and greet these children, but I pulled myself together before the pilot opened my door and I hopped out of my seat in the back. My friends had already joined the large group of people waiting to meet us and there were only a few children remaining. One, named Junior, clung to me. My newfound friend was talkative, asking me all kinds of questions and introducing me to his friends over the sound of some amazing, traditional singing and dancing that awaited our arrival.

I thought I was making a real connection with this kind eleven-year-old boy after only a few minutes, but then he asked what kind of remembrance I was going to give him. We had been prepared for this type of question, but it still stung a little and left me puzzled. I replied that I was unsure, which he was fine with, but then demanded that I not touch any other kids. This was nearly impossible because random kids would come up to you without saying anything and grab on to any open space on your arm. The Zags and their posse of new friends made the short walk to the convent Junior still clinging to me and expressing fascination at the differences in our hands.

After a short stop at the convent to drop our bags, we ventured off to watch the beautiful sunset by the river. As we left our gate, the kids swarmed us again! Junior sought me out right away. We had a great conversation and he was really patient when trying to teach me some Luvale. He tenderly wiped my hand off after realizing that there was dirt on it and asked me to take a picture of us when we arrived. “You can print this out and have Joshua bring it back for me next year as a remembrance,” he said. It was really reassuring after his earlier comment, but I still find myself confused. Nonetheless, before our evening was through, Junior told me that tomorrow he is going to get a new chicken and name it “Lauren,” at 15 hours tomorrow, I’m going to teach him to read, and that I have to meet him for sunset again tomorrow. We will be doing our homestays tomorrow, so that will be highly unlikely, but it was still a very sweet gesture. Once again, he reminded me of the picture, hugged me, and we departed.

A special shout out to Cecilia Vollert, who had a young boy (whose name I can’t remember) ask about her and to my dear friend Lauren Bledsoe, who had a young fan named Elizabeth. She informed me that she had a friend from 2013 named Lauren and her eyes lit up when she realized I knew you. I hope to make an impact like that on someone, as I know multiple people already have on me. Also, shout out to Ryan Olson and Alyssa Severson, since they asked me to, and my friends and family back home (Mom, Dad, Wayne, Jack, etc.). I miss and love you all and thank you for your support on this incredible journey.

So tonight, I head to bed with an overwhelming happiness, a concern about whether or not a real relationship will be formed with any of these wonderful Zambians, and extremely dirty feet from sand and red dirt.

Lauren Benedict (2015)

Hello Zags in Zambia followers,

While we will begin the reflections in earnest when we arrive in Zambezi tomorrow, we wanted you to know about our time in Lusaka. We began our day at the University of Zambia, meeting with a number of university dignitaries including the Dean of the School of Education and his faculty. In proper Zambian fashion, the gathering was both formal and relational. It provided us with a history of higher education in Zambia and the strategic plan for the future of the University of Zambia. We were grateful for the time spent together. We also toured a residence hall and spoke with a few university students.

After a schawarma lunch with camp missionary Kelly Huckaby at a new Zambian mall, our Zags went to hear about the long and fascinating history of the Jesuits in Zambia. Fr. McGloin joined the Jesuits while a student at Gonzaga. He’s been working in Zambia since 1969. He was able to share the long view of the order’s history, while also providing a more in-depth and personal recounting of the last 45 years of the 51 years since Zambia became an independent nation.

We also had a wonderful visit with staff at the Jesuit Center for Theological Reflection. As you might guess from the photo, our hosts Mwiinga and Tendei were lively and fun. They brought humor and joy to their work on behalf of the millions of Zambians living in poverty.

Josh was able to confirm that the books for the library at Chilena Basic School are on the way to Zambezi and should be there by Monday. This will be cause for an immense celebration, and we are overjoyed to be present for the culmination of many years’ partnership through Zambia Gold.

So, we are on our way at dawn. We’ve tried to assure that our internet connection will be reliable. But this is Zambia, so be patient. We will be eager to share our first experiences in Zambezi as soon as we can.

Josh Armstrong, Jennifer Akins, and Jeff Dodd

After 36 hours of travel, touching three continents, we have arrived safely in Lusaka, Zambia. For most, this journey began last November when applying to participate in Gonzaga-in-Zambezi, and after a semester of learning, reading and preparing, we couldn’t be more excited to touch down on African soil. Here are a few notes from our journey so far.

After an uneventful 14 hour flight from Seattle to Dubai (complete with hot towels and first-run films), we arrived to Dubai on Tuesday evening. Emirates Air lodges travelers with overnight layovers, so we hopped on a minibus with a few other passengers. We drove into the city and we pulled up to a large sparkling and extravagant building. We remained in our seats waiting to be delivered to our hotel, as the people in the front of the bus got out and went into the building we were parked in front of. A man in a khaki vest and pressed white shirt motioned us to get out; this was our hotel. We felt a surge of excitement run through us as we thought of our last guaranteed hot showers and finally getting to lie horizontal to sleep.

Despite the long flight that had taken us over the North Pole into the Middle East, we didn’t want to miss an opportunity to explore this remarkable and somewhat overwhelming city. We dropped off our stuff and headed out to tour the city of Dubai.

As we drove, the four-lane roadway was filled with sports cars (Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Maseratis all zipped by) and lined with giant billboards. The bus driver then pointed out the tallest building in the world, the Burj Khalifa. It didn’t look over 800 meters tall until we got closer and through the fog we could see the surrounding skyscrapers lining the horizon. It was impressive to say the least. It’s blinking lights created a tall pointy tower stacked like adult legos into the sky. We saw more of the city, including the Palms man made islands and Atlantis Resort, the Dubai mall, and then headed back to our beautiful hotel. The city’s uninhibited wealth and outrageous infrastructure gave us pause as we pondered our final destination. With exhausted eyes we headed to our hotel and rested up for another day of travel, this time finally on our way to Lusaka, Zambia.

We know that Lusaka, and Zambezi on Friday, won’t look or feel much like Dubai, and we’re excited get our first glimpse of the community that has been a home to so many Zags before us.

Allie Reiling & Josh Armstrong

This article was recently published in the Gonzaga Magazine, Spring 2015 by Dr. Josh Armstrong – http://blogs.gonzaga.edu/tobecontinued/2015/04/13/30/

I saw it first in the eyes of a handful of Zambian leaders when working alongside Gonzaga engineering students to build a more effective and sustainable cooking stove. After three lessons on heat generation from our students, our Zambian partners were ready to get their hands dirty. Using bricks and other locally sourced materials, we developed a stove together. Then something really interesting occurred. One day while we were out gathering new materials, the Zambian leaders made another, improved stove. When we stepped aside, they used their new knowledge and took ownership of the project.

With each additional iteration, the stove — and our global relationship — improved.

The practice of accompaniment

Many of us want to make a difference in our communities, and in our personal and professional lives. We want to be leaders, bringing change to a world that seems increasingly hungry for transformation. However, one doesn’t need to look far to see examples of those with good intentions, at home and abroad, who get in the way of true change. Often as not, the source of failure is overemphasizing tangible results while underemphasizing process.

Since 2007, I have led a specialized study abroad course in which Gonzaga students practice development work in Zambezi, a rural village in southern Africa. My experience last year watching students partner with Zambians to improve their stoves was another lesson in accompaniment, and I believe it has implications for the ways that we lead and serve around the world and in our local communities.

Jesuits believe that accompaniment is the act of being with and doing with, rather than doing for: walking together along the same path with a community that identifies objectives, creates a plan, and manages these activities in its own leadership or development process. In this way, accompaniment is not about giving service to the people, as a traditional charity would, but about serving alongside them in a relationship of mutual reciprocity. Great leaders remember that the process of communicating with their people is as important as the end result, and they make space for the process by taking time to invest in the people and discover their assumptions and expectations. This core commitment allows the best leaders to practice more effectively two key elements of accompaniment — exploring values and giving back the work — that can unlock its power and facilitate real change in the world.

It begins with understanding values

Near the end of our stove project, Sandu, who is one of our trusted friends, told me, “We believe knowledge is the weapon to success in life.” This core value has allowed the Zambezi community to shape the dialogue on change toward a focus on education. After careful listening, the Gonzaga program has come alongside a primary rural school in the Zambezi district to build a community library. Opening this year, it is the first library of its kind in this region of Zambia. While we are financial partners in this endeavor, we have not spent our time physically working on the construction of the library, believing the Zambian people to be experts in this regard. Rather we have dedicated our time listening and posing questions that seek to understand the values and goals that will integrate this library into the fabric of the community. Sustainable change that allows a community to “stand on its own two feet” must be rooted in the core values of the community.

Giving the work back

We often gain credibility and leadership by demonstrating our capacity to take other people’s problems off their shoulders and give them back solutions. While this can be an important skill, the leader practicing accompaniment mobilizes the work of others rather than simply pointing the way. The leader reflects on ways to take the work off her shoulders and place it into the various factions within the organization to work on the problem together. This way of proceeding models accompaniment by “operating at eye-level with the community.” Gonzaga-in-Zambezi students who embody the notion of eye-to-eye better serve our Zambian partners because they alleviate some of the inherent power dynamics between the more “privileged” students and the local people “in need.” In the same way, leaders must forge partnerships built on mutual respect and trust and seek opportunities to give back the work.

My colleague Aaron Ausland encourages those practicing accompaniment “to generate opportunities to receive in the places where you serve, to become mutually indebted and to develop real relationships with the community.”

In June, Gonzaga student Paxton Richardson reflected on an experience in Zambezi: “James, a respected community member, understood the stove well enough that he took over the second half of our lesson. Here I was, learning from the people I thought I would be serving and teaching. There was no division between them and us. That line was shattered the minute we received their warm, joyous welcoming.” In Zambezi, to Paxton’s surprise and satisfaction, she stumbled upon friendship, new understanding of community development, and the opportunity to practice accompaniment.

I hope that Zags everywhere will find opportunities to practice accompaniment in their own local and global communities.

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I look forward to practicing and teaching Gonzaga students accompaniment during our time in Zambezi this month.  Please follow along (and comment) in this blog as our lessons unfold. Dr. Josh Armstrong, May 3, 2015

Well, we have come to the end of the Zamily’s journey. The last 5 days in Livingstone have been jam packed. Victoria Falls, the Royal Livingstone,  a fantastic two-day Chobe National Park safari (where we saw countless animals, including a rare leopard), exploring the Curio markets and Livingstone itself, all while enjoying the last few days with our family. It has been an incredible way to end a once in a lifetime experience.

I am writing this on the first leg of our long journey home, a 6-hour bus ride from Livingstone to Zambia’s capital, Lusaka. It seems like it was years ago that we were staring up at the world’s tallest tower in Dubai as we began this experience, wondering what would await us when we finally reached Zambezi. And now, as we have nearly reached the end of our trip I wonder what everyone is going to take from this program and what awaits all of us back In the United States as learning continues.

This last month has been extraordinarily full day after day, as we tried our best to dive deep into this opportunity we are lucky to have. This roller coaster experience has left us feeling like we never want to leave and wondering why we ever chose Zambia. Usually within the span of an hour. On top of this, a common theme in reflection has been coming to terms with how this opportunity is impacting or changing us.

Although I am struggling with processing my experience, I’m lucky to have the ability to reflect back on my experience in Zambezi last year as a helpful guide. What I remember lines up with common themes discussed in this year’s Zamily as we begin to learn from the experience. I wanted to include a quote that a member of the ZamFam 2013 sent me with this year, because I believe it touches on many of the struggles our group is facing and will face as we come to terms with what we have learned and how we are changed.

“Be patient towards all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and foreign tongues. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given to you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then, gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers” -Rainier Mana Rilke

We have all just lived quite an experience. I know we have learned a lot about other people, and about ourselves, but big questions remain. How did this really change me? What’s next? How do I now apply what I have learned? Many of the questions we are asking ourselves don’t now have an answer, if we can even put the feeling into a question.

The truth is it should be a struggle. We shouldn’t leave here with all the answers. In doing that, we close this experience and put it on the shelf. Rather, we should let this journey live inside us, connecting to everything we do and the lens we view the world from. In doing this we will be able to continue learning, and this growing from Zambezi.

I know after my return last year, my family and friends got tired of hearing me talk about Zambia. I suppose this was one of the ways I continued processing, and the Zamily this year will now have to find a way that works for them. I’m excited to be with everyone as this occurs. A part of this experience is growing close to a group of people that you can debrief and keep learning with, a support system and community that we can turn to when the going gets tough, we are having a bad day or are missing Zambezi.

Thank you to everyone following Gonzaga-in-Zambezi on this blog. Your comments and the idea that we could share this experience with all of you was very comforting.

We will see you all very soon. Kisu, Mwane.

Conner House, Class of 2015

First of all I would like to say a few words about the picture above.

Please do not be alarmed if you do not see your child, friend, or loved one…they are probably just hiding behind the giant water droplet that totally decided to photobomb the camera lens. So even though it’s not a clear picture, I felt it was appropriate to share with all of you this snapshot of this absolutely AWESOME event that highlighted the Zamily’s day. Being soaked by the spray of the mighty Mosi Oa Tunya (Victoria Falls) was indescribable. However, not all went hunky-dory today. We did have some baboon confrontations at the falls, which resulted in two of our students being pelted by poo.

But anyways, I am here to write a blog. So it’s time for some real talk….and the first thing that comes to my mind is…

I have been dreading my turn to write this blog.

Yes, out of everything I could have started my blog with, this is what I came up with. Totally lame I know…I know.

I have been in Zambia for a total of 21 days now. 21 DAYS (I am still totally in denial). To be quite honest, the main reason I am/was dreading to write this is because I simply cannot in any way, shape, or form articulate this experience to its full potential…and that scares me. Our remaining time here in Zambia is running low, so it is inevitable that upon my arrival home I will be asked to share my stories/emotions with family and friends. But how is this even going to be possible when I am facing a serious brain fart on what to even write about here on this blog?

My only idea that may give the trip justice is to have those who want to know about my last 3 weeks pop a squat next to me and allow me 21 days of their time. This way I can adequately spew a full account of everything that has happened thus far in Zambia… but let’s be real. One, it would be unrealistic for someone to listen to me babble for 21 days…and two, even though I have Victoria Falls to thank for helping power wash my feet today, they are still pretty toxic…so sitting next to me for more than an hour and inhaling my foot fumes would probably be seriously bad for one’s health.

So I am still stuck here. Stuck thinking by the beard of Zeus how will I tap into this glass case of emotion? Stuck. Stuck stuck stuck. Double stuck. Forever stuck. But really…help me…I’m stuck.

So while contemplating how I should write about my experience in this blog, I turned to my journal (which I am proud to say I have been consistently writing in). And, duh, of course! I realized this potentially held the answer to my issue. I have recorded in this journal condensed versions of all my thoughts, emotions, and events for the past 21 days. So from these 21 daily entries I chose random quotes, which I am hoping will give you all a slight insight into what I am still trying to process in order to accurately describe my experience.

Day 1: Landing in Zambezi. The welcoming choir, dust, and over 100 kids actually wanting to grasp my forever sweaty hands. I don’t know why but I immediately began crying. And I’m not talking those cute little tears that grace cheeks. No, I’m talking about the kind that result in you bawling so hard you choke on your own snot. Not pretty, but hey, totally explains my emotional rollercoaster of arriving to Zambezi.

Day 2: I should have brought a full-sized towel. The dishtowel isn’t cutting it.

Day 3:  My favorite activity is by far dinking around with the Zambezi children outside the convent. Today we played a mean game of duck-duck-goose and danced to the Tomato song. Also on a side note the girls got ahold of my hair and braided the whole thing. They totally called me out on my dandruff, but it’s whatever. By the end I was looking fabulous.

Day 4:  Went to church and witnessed how truly religious the Zambian people are. These people have so little yet are so faithful to God and thankful for what they do have. It is humbling.

Day 5: FIRST DAY OF TEACHING AT CHILENA PRIMARY SCHOOL, MS. K IN THE HIZZZ HOUUUSEEEE. Morning class of 20 students in the 7b class and afternoon class of about 27 students in the 6b. This shall be a riot.

Day 6: I know I am only a couple days in and probably getting a little too attached or emotional…but I am honestly worried about leaving here. One, I already know saying goodbye to the kids around the convent and at the school is going to be rough. And two, I may never be able to come back to Zambezi, which makes the relationship process unsettling. How is it fair that I just show up in Zambezi and then leave? What gives me the right to do this? Currently wrestling with this thought.

Day 7: Take more pictures you boob! Also, the education group took the walk from Chilena through the village of Chingolala to the convent today. We had at least 20 children tagging along behind us. It was about a 45-minute walk consisting of 4 year olds constantly attacking us with the question,  “Chindele, how you are?”

Day 8: Encountered a major language barrier in class today. The students’ native language at Chilena is Lunda, so trying to explain myself in English (a language that the Zambian school curriculum introduced only in grade 4) can be a struggle. If something is understood I will usually get a “yes” as a reply. What do you want to be when you grow up? “Yes.” What do you learn about in school? “Yes.” So patience is needed and is key.

Day 9:  Our group walked to Steven’s house this evening (local man who housed students for homestays) and had about an hour-long dance party outside his house until sunset. A perfect example of how the Zambian culture is so richly influenced by song and dance.

Day 10: A bat bounced off my head tonight in the church at Dipalata. Needless to say: echolocation FAIL. P.S. No light pollution for 40km equals the best stars you will ever see.

Day 11: My first pit toilet experience. Besides being terrified the ground would collapse beneath by feet and I would be lost in a pile of dirt and poo everything went flawless. Well, except for in mid-squat I was interrupted by some passing locals (pit toilets don’t have doors)…. “Chimene mwane?”

Day 12: While playing on a makeshift teeter-totter with the kids outside the convent today, some of my money obliviously fell out of my pocket. One of the kids quickly ran over, picked it up, and handed it to me. This moment of honesty was beautiful.

Day 13: Realized today that substitute teachers do not exist in the Chilena (and probably a lot of Zambian schools for that fact). And the main reasons are because there are not enough teachers and the teachers that are there are extremely overworked (about 27 teachers for the 700 students at Chilena). So if a teacher is absent that class will simply not have a teacher, yet all the students will still attend class. As cliché as it sounds, I now understand how we take our education for granted.

Day 14: Was goalkeeper in Chindeles vs. Chilena football game…let’s just say I did not excel at stopping the ball, but I was quite good at running towards those trying to kick it and scaring the crap out of them. I also scratched off something that should be on everyone’s bucket list…watched The Lion King… in Africa.

Day 15: RIP Sir William Stewart, the goat we received as a gift in Dipalata, who was transported underneath the benches in an hour long car drive, and who has been living in the back shed. Today William Stewart is the day you WILL be STEWed (get it? ha…sorry)

Day 16: It was a double whammy day. Crossed the Zambezi river today over the Chinyingi suspension bridge and was climbed like a tree by a Makishi.  Score.

Day 17: When I blow my nose, dirt comes out.

Day 18: Today the staff of Chilena threw a party for our education group and it was “the best day ever” according to the headmaster Elvis. And I would have to concur it was pretty sweet. We all got up and sang, danced, the staff prepared a meal for us (which included the chicken butchered on my classroom steps that morning), and truly honored us for our time at Chilena. And although my role was to be a teacher and except this I honestly and truly believe we owe more to the faculty and students of Chilena for allowing us to learn from them. I will forever be thankful for this opportunity.

Day 19: Today is the day we left Zambezi. I will never forget Jr.’s tears as we huddled around the plane. I will never forget Jr., Japhet, John, Barnabus, and Joe. These kids, these people, this community, I will honestly never forget them and how they constantly reminded us how Zambezi was our home. Will I ever see them again? I don’t know, but one thing I sure do know is goodbyes suck.

Day 20: 24 hours ago I was in a place where people lived off less than 1 dollar a day. Tomorrow we will be visiting a resort that people stay at for 500 dollars a night. Zambezi and Livingstone are presenting me with two entirely different views on Zambia, which is fueling my conflicting emotions.

Day 21: I was completely drenched by Victoria Falls. Pictures will never be able to describe the absolute joy experienced. Also monkeys man. Monkeys are the American squirrel.

So hopefully that small taste of my 21 days so far gave you a slight glimpse into what I intend to share when I return home. I may not have had a full-blown epiphany in any instances, but my views have been seriously challenged and I am left with quite a great deal to process (and obviously a lot of stories and thoughts to share).

I would also like to say I am so thankful for the Zambezi community’s hospitality and this incredible opportunity to come to Zambia with such an amazing and truly incredible group of people. Hi to those back home as well, I will be seeing you soon!

Love,

Carolyn Kvernvik or “S”, Class of 2016

P.S. Mom, we are going to need to invest in a scrub brush for my feet J

After almost four weeks in Zambia, I am feeling a range of emotions. This past week, it finally struck me: I am in Africa. I know it sounds ridiculous – I have been here for almost a full month! – and where else would we be followed by children screaming “Chindele! Chindele! How are you?”

In America, because of our fast-paced and always-on-the-go attitude, days, weeks, and eventually months and years, go by before we even realize it. All of a sudden, time has slipped through our fingers; retrospectively, you realize things that, if you had just taken a little extra time to stop and notice, or cancelled that last thing on your list to stay and enjoy who or what was in front of you, you might not be as struck when you catch yourself actually “being in the moment.”

This same, sudden realization came to me when I was studying abroad this spring in Florence. It wasn’t until the last couple of weeks that I fully embraced the feeling that this place of living, teaching, and experiencing was my home. Something had shifted inside me.

Being in Zambia is nothing like I have ever imagined before.  Becoming used to the American, fast-paced notion of seeing the goal and not letting anything get in your way, making your destination the only stop along the way, and not letting other distractions hinder your success or accomplishment of a task, is something that I have mastered. When I see a goal, I put my blinders on and keep my focus until the end, giving it everything I have to get there as efficiently and as best as I can. Being in Zambia it all changed; it was no longer about the set goals and not letting anything get in the way, but more like slowing down and seeing what is happening around you.

This concept sounds so simple, and yet it took me what seemed like almost a month to understand. I feel so lucky to have been a part of the Education group. I love my team and don’t think I would have been able to get through this journey without them. Unlike me, they all had the ability to slow down and enjoy the moment, and to stop and see the happenings that are going on right in front of you. I am studying to be a teacher, so you would think I would go in knowing what to do in a situation like this, teaching literacy, but that was not the case.

Two nights ago I broke down at the moment of realization that maybe being a teacher is not what I am supposed to be. I am so head driven and so good at seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, that I miss the amazing little moments around me. In this case, working for two weeks and seeing a light at the end of this tunnel for the 6^th graders, with various literacy levels, was something I felt like I would never be able to make clear. I remember coming home day after day wondering why I couldn’t see improvement, what I was doing wrong, why I couldn’t establish the relationships like everyone in the Ed group could. It took tears, and then some more to truly realize that this super speed life isn’t for all, and not something for me.

The thoughts ran through my head of, “should I even be a teacher? Am I even making an impact on these kids?  I have asked this student what her favorite color is three times and all she said is “yes,” why can’t you get through to her?” I started noticing that while I recognized the faces behind the convent gates that yell Stefen or Steph, I really didn’t know their names. Maybe if I were to take a few extra moments of trying to get to know those faces and feel like I was actually creating that bond, instead of moving on to the next thing. Bawling due to the realization that that’s not how they work and maybe that’s not how I should work either, hit me.

This moment of reflecting on myself and having that time to experience, the “now,” was something that literally felt like it needed to slap me in the face in order to see and understand the hard way (the tears), before the understanding of the good intentional way.

As I left again another place with another piece of my heart, the space left gives me to grow and gain that understanding I have been longing for, for understanding my self, realizing that I can be a good teacher and that I will with the help of this experience, and what the Zambian people are so good at: giving what they have and doing it in love.

Today was the day that I never could see nor wanted to see. I had to pack all the chitenges, baskets, and new Zambian engraved values into my backpack for the journey home. The bittersweet moment set in as we headed to the airstrip with hundreds of smiling and waving children screaming “Chindele! I will miss you,” and our new friends holding our hands as we approach the bush planes. I was excited to go, because I know that in less than a week I will be home with my families, but I’m sad because these kids start having their eyes filled up with tears, as they know their friend they have connected with in the past month is now leaving and probably will be the last time I see them again.

I look into their eyes one last time before I climb into the little 5 person plane and tell them to study hard and stay in school and to never forget to work hard and remember us. The little sad face looks a little bit at ease at the sudden memory that they know we care and that they will always be in our hearts.

As Donna Hatch says, “for every goodbye, God provides a hello.”

I am so blessed and so amazed at the opportunity I have had in Zambezi. Without having this reflection and sudden realization of “being in Africa,” I wouldn’t be able to say that I am learning more about myself. Throughout the long workdays at Chilenga Primary, growing as an individual, seeing the amazing sunsets, trying on every chitenge possible, and learning in ways that challenge me left and right, has been something I wish I could go on and on about. I never thought I would be able to say that “I served myself,” and not just others, and learning the importance of it, would be something I would say.

Mom, Dad, Up Chuck (Charlie), Big T (Tommy), Jeter Babes (pup), Oma, and all my family members, I am thinking of you all and pray every night for you. Can’t wait to share more of my stories, memories, and experiences with you.  Thanks for giving me this wonderful opportunity! Love you all, so glad to share my experience with you. Don’t worry I am taking lots of pics!

Kisu Mwane & Love you lots!

xoxoxo

Stephanie Leonard, Class of 2016

Tonight marks our Zamily’s last night in Zambezi. It is bitter sweet to be leaving this place that, for many of us, has only just begun to feel like home and these people who have just begun to feel like family. Our experience in Zambia has been filled with questioning and wrestling about our own cultural, emotional, and spiritual identities. We have posed many complex questions to one another in the midst of such a rich experience, many of which have no explicit answer. I am sure that I will still be struggling to understand my thoughts in response to these questions in the coming weeks, months, and even years.

One frightening question that we must all be prepared to respond to in exactly one week is “How was Africa?” We owe it to our eager family and friends to provide some sort of insight into the whirlwind of a month that we have just experienced. How in the world are we going to adequately describe all that we have seen, heard, felt, and smelled in the past month while honoring the people and the place that have allowed us a glimpse into their lives? No words that I can provide during 5 minutes in passing or even an hour sitting in a quaint coffee shop will ever fully capture the many facets of my experience here in Zambia.

While reflecting on my joys, failures, frustrations, and relationships, my mind has often come back to Howard Thurman’s quote“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needsis people who have come alive.” The experiences that have made a mark on my heart and will continue to impact my thoughts and actions are those experiences which have struck something inside of me that make me feel alive, more fully human, and more in tune with who God created me to be. Attempting to touch the surface of these experiences and how I believe I have seen the face of God through them is the only way that I can do justice to what I have experienced.

Many of the moments that have struck a cord in me are moments that have made my soul ache and my heart heavy. Talking about these experiences and how they have transformed my worldview is absolutely necessary, but each one of us must be intentional about representing the whole truth, rather than just those parts of the truth that reinforce the world’s inadequate perception of what Africa is.

As the wise and respected Raymond Reyes said during last night’s reflection, “you are responsible for what you know.” I have felt this more and more as I have been here. Not only have I been blessed with a bounty of knowledge through my education, but I have been given first-hand knowledge of the needs that exist here and around the world.

My responsibility to share knowledge is two-fold. It is my responsibility to articulate the ways that I have been inspired in this place so that my family and friends may in turn feel a tug and a challenge for their own lives. It is also my responsibility to not allow the teaching and serving to end as we board the plane on the way back home. I now know that what may seem like simple and insufficient knowledge on my part can in fact empower entire communities.

During one of our first weeks, the health team made an appearance in the rural village of Chavuma. Expecting to teach a simple lesson on nutrition to a small group of 20-30 women, I was overcome by amazement as the numbers grew to upwards of 200. By the middle of our presentation, our message was landing on the eager ears of half the village, including men, women, children, and village elders. “This is going to change our lives” has been a response to our teaching on a few occasions. Knowledge is power. So what are we going to do with this power?

I feel a sense of duty and responsibility to offer every ounce of energy and knowledge that I have in order to help meet some of the needs that I have observed. When people ask me why I chose to pursue nursing as a career, I am often not quite sure of my reasoning. Through the past few weeks, I believe that God has revealed to me why I was called to nursing.  The ability to share knowledge about health is an absolute gift and the practical skillset that nursing provides me with will openmany doors for me. I pray that I will be open to discerning the places where God is calling me and that I will have the courage to act.

Our health team had the opportunity of meeting Tanis, a missionary nurse from Canada who works at the Chitokoloki Mission Hospital. At the age of 23, Tanis felt that God was calling her to Zambia. Without hesitation, she listened. For the past eighteen years, she has continued to have faith in God’s plan for her life and has endured the struggle of being called in for surgery at three o’clock in the morning, only to work a full shift the next day. She persists with limited resources and technology, and endures with strength despite the disheartening experience of watching countless patients die of preventable disease.

Rather than seeing her service as a sacrifice and burden, it is clear that she views her situation as a blessing. She is thankful to be able to use her skills, her heart, and her energy to be able to serve. I wish that every person reading this blog could have a chance to listen to her speak, for her sense of purpose and her confidence are remarkable. I cannot help but imagine myself in two years, as a 21 year-old who has just graduated from nursing school. If I felt called to do something so bold and challenging, I hope that I would be willing to make sacrifices for the sake of coming alive and living into my purpose on this earth.

So, family and friends, brace yourselves. When you ask me “How was Africa?” I am not going to give you a neat and tidy synopsis. My explanation is going to be messy, long-winded, and, at times, poorly articulated. But I will do my best to honor this amazing experience and the people who have touched my life, whether it takes two minutes or two hours.

Mom, Dad, Andrew, and friends- I cannot wait to tell you all about it! I miss you all dearly and am thankful for all of your support in helping me get here. Love you all to the moon and back.

Kisu, mwane.

Hannah Van Dinter, Class of 2016

I’ll admit it, on May 21 I had a bit of a meltdown. It all came from the sudden realization that I was over 12000 miles from my home, from my sister who would be celebrating her sixth birthday without her older sister there to push her face into the cake. My mind carried me to May 22 and to how my family would celebrate without me. How would my mom prepare so much food for all of the guests? Who would decorate the house? What decorations would Emily pick? After sitting for a good hour or so under a clear starry night, blubbering over these questions that I would receive no concrete answer to, I stopped and thought about how selfish I was being.

Here I was, sitting under one of the most beautiful night skies I had ever witnessed and I was crying over an event that hadn’t even occurred and that I knew would be handled perfectly without my presence. I wasn’t living in the moment; I hadn’t been present in my Zambian experience because I was worried about something that was out of my reach, 12000 miles to be exact. This brings me to my topic and to my greatest challenge thus far, to live in the moment.

It may seem a little ironic that I am reflecting so much in this post when my point is to live in the moment but there is a purpose, I promise. At home I continually noticed how often I had spent my time thinking and preparing myself mentally and emotionally about this trip. I can hardly remember my last night at home because I was so focused on how I would handle certain situations that might come up in Zambezi. I would build these scenarios in my head and then make up outcomes to those scenarios. I’m sure if I had been more focused on living in the moment I would not have had such a hard time that night under the stars.

Also, I tend to reflect on past experiences. I remember that the very first thing I thought about as we were driving through Lusaka was “Oh my gosh, this place is just like my home in Mexico!” Wrong. I’m glad I let go of that thought because although Zambia looks like Mexico, my experiences there are VERY different from my experience in Zambezi. Comparing my experience from Drum Corps has also been more of a hindrance than an outlet. Marching with the Oregon Crusaders in 2012 was an experience all in its own. There is nothing like it, so why do I keep returning to it?  I believe it’s because I want the end result of this trip to be a clear and precise answer. As I was nearing the end of that summer-long endeavor I knew what had changed within me. My time in Zambezi has nearly reached its end, only one day to go, and I have no idea how to put into words my experience here. When I reflect on my Drum Corps experience I only continue to build expectations about what needs to happen here in Zambezi. It doesn’t allow me to fully experience Zambezi on its own. No worries, not all is lost.

The moments I have felt of intense clarity have blossomed out of times where I remind myself to live completely in the moment, to be able to let go of my worries and know that my future is in God’s hand. At home, my best friend often tells me when I would get too stressed about an upcoming event, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, God is already there.” I find that I have this in my mind whenever I am teaching at Chilenga and when we traveled to Dipalata.

Being a teacher at Chilenga Basic has been extremely rewarding. My students have given their hearts over to me without any need to. Much like my fellow Zags have mentioned in their posts, Zambians have an unbelievable capacity to love without expecting anything in return. But along with my students at Chilenga, I have given a piece of my heart to each on of them and to Mrs. Melody, who is a beautiful and shining soul to work alongside. There is a quote that comes to my mind whenever I think about my time at Chilenga, “Where you invest your love, you invest your life.” My students are a prime example of this because they absolutely love coming to school. Many of them have written in their stories how fortunate they are to be getting an education and how important it is for their lives. One student wrote, “I love school because it is my life.” He understands the power behind his education, and the love that he puts into it will further his education even more. My students live in the moment constantly because they have placed their worries in God. They do not fear what happens after they graduate because they have this mindset that their education will lead them to success. They trust God with their future.

Much like my students, the people of Dipalata work very hard for what they love. During the short time we were there I had this feeling that everything they did for us sprouted from their love. Sitting around the campfire that Chris pictured in his blog I found myself not thinking about what was going to happen or what had happened. When you live in the moment you feel a sense of peace like no other. It’s hard to explain, but you feel like you have never lived until that moment. I give my ultimate thanks to the people of Dipalata for letting us into their community and for giving me the opportunity to find paradise of serenity.

I want to conclude with a beautiful homily by Father Noel that was completely relevant to my thoughts on living in the moment. He spoke about how the ascension of Jesus did not mean that Jesus had left his disciples for another place. Jesus was both in heaven and with his disciples. He did not abandon his people by going to heaven. It is through Jesus and his omnipresence that we are able to find the beauty in the world and work to continue building that beauty. Our lives are a culmination of experiences whether they are good or bad, but in order to get the most out of my time here in Zambezi I recognize that living in the moment is more pertinent than reflecting on the past or worrying about the future. In order for me to get the most out of my time here in Zambezi I need to recognize the fact that this experience is like nothing else and should not be compared heavily with any other events.

Kisu Mwane,

Lili Ramos, Class of 2016

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

P.S. Happy Belated Birthday Emily!! A toda la familia Ramos, los extraño con todo mi corazon y espero el dia para verlos otra ves! Les mando muchos besos y habrasos.

If I had a kwacha for every time I started, and then reworked, my thoughts for this blog post, I would have enough for probably two chitenges. I was thinking of basing my ideas on a quote, but that felt too confining. I drew some inspiration from an article we read before reflection a few nights ago about learning how to lean into both your “light” and your “shadow” to lead most authentically and fully. But with how I’m feeling these days, getting the ball rolling doesn’t quite cut it.

There is one thing I know for sure, though, and have been holding onto to help me wade through my swarming thoughts. While we were sitting in mass in Dipalata last Sunday, beaming children and adults surrounded our group of fresh-faced chindeles. Wide-eyes, curiosity, and some amusement from our newness radiated on their faces. We were praised, blessed, and fed more than we could consume while we were in the middle of a village that doesn’t have running water or electricity, let alone enough to properly feed their entire family week to week. What were we doing there? Yes, we taught some classes, and I am proud of the computer lesson Shannon, Mark, and I were able to throw together for a group of eager learners, but I couldn’t fight the feeling that I was showing people the door to all of this wonderful and exciting knowledge and potential (hello power of the Internet, which was quite a trip explaining), but then putting the key to this greatness in my back pocket and peacing out for good. “Here is this tool, it will connect you to the world and give you the ability to access knowledge you cannot even begin to fathom, but shucks!, looks like you can’t have it.” These thoughts were pulsing through my body as I was looking around at these bright faces at mass the day after our lesson.

What the hell were we doing there?

Before my thoughts could take me down the path of “are we doing more harm than good?” I realized that our presence offered something beautiful and powerful. We were being. Simply being. We flew from Seattle, Washington, to Zambezi, Zambia, literally halfway across the world, just to be with people. This was even more evident in Dipalata, where we did not go to teach two-week long courses that ensured students GU certificates. We were literally there for an overnight immersion experience. But more importantly, we were there just to be. Our purpose in Dipalata was to acknowledge people for their full and dignified worth. Simple as that. I then stopped to look at these individuals in the eye, instead of grazing my glance from child to child to adult to child. Before accompaniment comes acknowledgment. Helen said it in an earlier blog: the greatest thing you can give someone is your attention, your time. Acknowledge people for what they are with the entire dignity they deserve. That goes for conversing with children and adults like we would back in the States—no patronizing, no coddling, no special or different treatment. People are people, no matter where they are from.

Africa is being un-romanticized for many of us, which is a wonderful thing. This continent is that exactly: a continent. It is not one country with one culture, and while there is extreme poverty in many places, there is also extreme growth, and not every man and woman is starving living in a mud and straw hut. Sure, there are more cultural differences than I can count, but that goes both ways. This place and country and city is not filled with elephants and lions and people in tribal costumes speaking only in tongues. It’s not all hard and tragic and “third world.” And it isn’t all easy and beautiful and handholding and poetic. It’s life and these are people. Zambia wove itself into the fabric of my being. I will always hold it near and dear, but not put it up on a pedestal, as that would be taking away from the innate dignity that comes from acknowledging a place as exactly what it is: a place. Sure, some of the people here have changed my life for the good, but people from all over the world have done that for me. And the people in Zambia are no more special than any one of you reading this blog.

The moment we lose sight of our global “oneness” is the moment we dehumanize and diminish peoples’ dignity and merit as individuals. Each person is worthy of her own story, and it is our challenge, privilege, and responsibility to join people in accompaniment in the journey of mutual discovery, liberation, and growth. I think it is fair to say that these past three weeks have been riddled with experiences that have both challenged and inspired; I am not without insightful topics or happenings. I have come to accept, though, that I am at a time in my life where the foundation of who I am is being rattled. My above idea is the one sense of clarity I have had the entire time. My sense of self and worth; my faith; my relationships and connectiveness and place in the world; what the hell I want to do with my future; my gifts, talents, and purpose; and the mere foundation of who I am is unsettled and being called into question. I have had pretty drastic shifts in discerning who I am, what I believe, and who and what is important to me in the past, but this experience is pretty surreal because I am not identifying these shifts retrospectively, but rather in the moment. In the past, I grew most from reflection on particular conversations, events, and moments, all after the fact. Wisdom from experience.

However, this time around, I feel my mind racing at a rate I can barely grasp, and it is almost making me feel numb. Emotion overload—I don’t know what to feel or how to articulate anything that has been crossing my mind after all of these wonderful and interesting encounters and experiences. A part of me also feels desensitized to the culture shock, and I am not fazed by some things until I realize my fellow fam members are inspired or disturbed. Part of that, I believe, is because I have a unique perspective on this trip. I am coming from a year of studying and traveling in Europe, so culture shock has lost a bit of its novelty for me. People are people, and a place is a place, regardless of where you are in this world. Zambezi felt really comfortable only after couple of hours, and I think that led me not to be as obviously and blatantly challenged as some of my peers. I have never had an “ah ha!” moment, and while now I am seeing that that is okay because each experience is our own, it initially caused me to wonder if I was missing the point or was not challenging myself enough to dig deeper. This mentality prompted the uncertainty on all else, which brings me to this blog post and how I just don’t know. I have faith that this experience will lead to great growth, but it is definitely daunting to still be in it and not have much to hold on to. Who I am is on unstable territory. And I realize that is okay, and probably the point I seem to be desperately searching for. I don’t need, or want, even, clarity or peace now. And I have come to embrace and accept my uncertainty, more or less. But as someone who draws strength, faith, and peace from grounded ideas and values, I am feeling lost.

This all goes back to the article I mentioned about owning both our “light” and our “shadow.” I think my shadow, at least at this point of my life, has to do with my uncertainty about almost everything I am facing, which has brought up different insecurities from my past. I am very much a person of faith, but not much for organized religion. At the same time, because I don’t have the structure that institutional religion can offer, I often struggle when my faith faces challenge. I know I see God through and in my relationships and the conversations I have with people, and God is very much the fibers that connect us as human beings. But what, exactly, is God to me? I have a trust in something greater than us, and put my faith in the unknown and believe that what is meant to be will find its way. I guess I can call that God? But that doesn’t sit right with me. I feel a disconnect between how I see God and what God is to me, and having this existential crisis, alongside many other questions about my purpose (etc.) in this setting is quite a trip.

Other than all of that utter and complete distress, life in the Our Lady of Fatima Convent is great! We cleared well over 60 of Conner’s no-bake chocolate-peanut butter cookies today, so all is well and yummy on our front.

That’s all for now. Kisu mwane, my friends!

Be free, Cecilia Vollert Class of 2015

P.S. Sending a silly amount of love to you Mom, Dad, Andrew, Brian, the rest of the Vollert and Tierney clan, and all of my wonderful friends back home. I am coming for ya!