Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

I’ve always been fascinated by the way places look. My imagination and curiosity always involved different places, making up a person and what their house looks like, how they get to work, how downtown looks. This goes hand in hand with my interest in geography and the game GeoGuessr. I’m also a chronic Google Maps browser, sometimes just finding random things and odd attractions (did you know that the world’s largest thermometer is somewhere in rural southern California? The town name eludes me, and I unfortunately can’t check Google Maps). One of the reasons I love history and museums is because it gives a glimpse into what someone’s home, city, or country looked like in a bygone era somewhere across the world.

I feel like it always stopped at the visual, or at least I’ve only had the opportunity to explore the visual. Flying over Zambia in the front seat of a Cessna 258, I was transfixed by all of the rural communities we passed, the footprints of the buildings, and the paths between them. Every travel day so far, I’ve been one of the most awake travelers, just drinking in the new places. On bus rides, I was peeking into alleyways, trying to catch a view of the streets. In Lusaka and Livingstone, I was so interested in what the various neighborhoods looked like, how the market was laid out, and obviously what the view of Victoria Falls would be. On the safari, I kept an eye out for what plants and animals I could see. But that was the thing. It was all curiosity about what the place looked like, not as much how it felt.

This initially continued yesterday as I caught sight of Zambezi for the first time from the plane. I stared at the runway, the streets, picked out the market and imagined people’s walks from their homes to the bustling strip of metal roofs. As soon as we landed, however, and were greeted by around a hundred people with songs and performances, my fascination, curiosity, and focus shifted from the visual, logistical interest in the town to how it felt, the people, and the community. We walked to the convent holding the hands of the masses of kids that had come to greet us. I then spent an hour with Isa, Mary Pearl, and Jeff dutifully following Mama Katendi around the market with a grocery bag, hoping to be honored by her placing an item in my bag over the others. I was thinking how it felt in addition to taking in how it looked, which is something I can’t figure out how to put into words just yet.

Today, we went to mass. Again, initially I focused on the construction, how it was almost a cross shape, the blue walls, and the overwhelming smell of incense making it hard to breathe. Then, as the choir started singing and the community came to their feet, and announcements went on and on, I started to focus more on how it felt to be in there, and to focus on the people. Near the end of the service, we got up in front and introduced ourselves and our classes. The congregation was very welcoming but seemed unenthused. We then sang a song we had learned the previous night in Lunda. You could tell just how much this changed the perception of our group in the community, and left me hoping I can continue focusing on the feelings and people in a room in addition to the place they’re in. After the service, we stuck around outside and tried to meet new people. Most of my previous interactions with Zambians have either come from a vendor trying to sell me something or someone I’ll never see again after our brief exchange in passing. This was different. This was a community I will be learning from and living with for the next 3 weeks. When I’ve traveled in the past, its always just been the tourist activities, which promotes this “how things look” mindset. Now that we are out of the tourist’s Zambia, away from the vacationing Floridian couples who are shocked that Zambians speak English, I feel good. Nervous and completely unprepared and out of my depth, but excited and ready to look to people and not just places in our new host community in Zambezi.

Joe Olson
ZamFam ‘26
GU class of 2029

For my loved ones:

Lily, I hope you’re still finding joy seeing friends and family and hanging out with Rosie! Miss you!! You’re one of my favorite people on earth, and I can’t wait for our month debrief when I get back!

Mom, Dad, and Xan I miss you guys! I hope Mom and Allie are teaming up and picking terrible movies for you Dad. I know you’re probably used to it by now. Say hi to Nar and Francis for me!

Also, Laith I’m not sure if you’re actually reading this, but happy late birthday! You always send me pictures of interesting books from crazy bookstores in other countries, so I was excited I was able to return the favor. I did not buy them unfortunately.

Love you guys.

Hannah says: Congrats on graduation Claire! I wish I could be with you! Love you!

Noah says: Happy Birthday to my mom! I hope you’re having a good day and not going crazy without me!

A few days ago, while I was journaling, Taylor reminded me about a concept from our African American religion class. After spending a few minutes reminiscing on our professor’s incredible enthusiasm and what she would do if she were here in Zambia, we remembered Dr. Clark presenting the idea of life enhancing and life diminishing powers as a naturally existing balance within the universe. She described it by talking about a toddler so full of life and energetic (life enhancing) but also so draining and exhausting at the same time (life diminishing). The more that I sat with this idea, the more I realized that it is not simply a religious framework, but a way of understanding how we move through the world and what we give to the people around us.

While most people see life enhancing power as loud and dramatic, it can also exist on a smaller scale. Sometimes it is as simple as making someone feel seen. Sometimes it is trust. Sometimes it allows you to be vulnerable enough to admit fear, uncertainty, or dependence on others. Life diminishing power can emerge when we isolate ourselves, close ourselves off emotionally, or try to carry everything alone.

Before this trip, I mostly viewed vulnerability as a weakness, despite endlessly hearing pro-vulnerability propaganda in CLP. I liked feeling self-sufficient. I liked believing I could handle everything on my own. But traveling across Zambia with a group of people for an entire month has challenged that instinct in ways I could never prepare for. There is something about being far away from home, out of my routines, and constantly encountering new experiences that stripped away any illusion that I can exist independently.

Yesterday, standing at the edge of Victoria Falls, preparing to swing over the gorge, I confronted that truth in a very physical way. There is a moment before you jump where every instinct in your body tells you not to move. My mind searched for control, for certainty, for a guarantee that nothing could go wrong. But eventually you choose to stay frozen at the edge, or you surrender yourself to the experience.

What struck me the most afterwards was not the adrenaline itself, but the trust it required. Trust in the people securing the ropes. Trust in the encouragement from the group around me. Trust in my own ability to survive the fear. Trust that Mary Pearl and I would step off the platform at exactly the same time. In a strange way, jumping forced me to confront how much of life depends on relationships and interdependence. We are constantly held up by other people, even when we pretend we are standing alone.           

This realization connects directly to the idea of life enhancing power. Throughout this trip, I have started to notice how much power exists in community and openness. Some of the moments that have felt the most meaningful have not been the “big” moments, but all of the smaller ones; making animal noises on a ridiculously long bus ride, sharing a room not only with friends but also with mosquitos and a lizard (named Maurice), laughing at Jeff’s sole desire to see one type of bird on the Safari (and nothing else), or passing out on an airplane runway in front of approximately 100 people. These moments create life. They strengthen something invisible between us all.

At the same time, I have also become more aware of how easy it is to diminish life within ourselves and in others. Fear can do that. Pride can do that. The need to appear composed at all times can do that. When we refuse vulnerability, we sometimes refuse connection as well, even from those most important to us. And without connection, something essential begins to shrink and boy does it shrink fast.

As we descend into Zambezi, I think one of the biggest lessons I am carrying with me is that growth is not always about becoming stronger in the traditional sense. Sometimes growth is learning how to lean on others without shame. Sometimes it is allowing yourself to be changed by people, placed, and experiences instead of trying to control them. Sometimes it is understanding that courage is not the absence of fear, but a willingness to move forward while trusting that you will not do it alone.

And maybe that begins with allowing ourselves to be fully human first.

I love you all to the moon and back a million times never stopping.

Samantha Cornfeld

Zam Fam ‘26

Mom and Dad – Missing you endlessly, always. The good thing about the struggle bus is that buses always have multiple stops and opportunities to hop off.

Katherine – stay away from my bed and make sure that Megan stays away from my closet. I have exciting tea that can’t be shared on the blog because of “lurkers” (iykyk)

Lulu – Have the best time playing at state, I am so proud of you! Make sure to nail somebody at the net for me (and don’t apologize for it!)

Anders – I heard you barely beat Kate in tennis the other day. That’s embarrassing. Couldn’t be me. Don’t worry, you have lots of time to improve before I get home. Currently also just got a notification that Jane has to use the bathroom . . . you better get on that. I love you lots!

Juju L – I hope Glacier was the adventure of a lifetime and that you are not too tired of it and will go back with me next year. No worries about the roommate situation! A quick medical emergency among arrival meant that Jeff was more than happy to leave us in each other’s care. The real question is which one of us passed out on the airplane tarmac?

Juju G. – I am counting on you for a full rundown on everything that has happened to Taylor Frankie Paul since I’ve left (that girl can’t seem to catch a break). I miss your comforting presence and ma super hype to go farmers market-ing with you in Seattle; the markets are definitely a different vibe here.

To everybody reading along with us, your support means so much more than we could ever express.

Much love
Zam Fam ’26-7 (hehe)  

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, JUMP!” This was the last thing we heard before plummeting down towards the water below us, trusting the rope would catch us.

Today 17 of us jumped off Batoka Bridge with the mist from Victoria Falls on our faces and adrenaline pumping through our veins. Standing on the platform, looking down at the river 111m below, my heart raced, and I questioned my decision for a split second. With Lily tight to my side, we stepped off the platform. As we dropped and swung at the bottom, our adrenaline and fear washed away. We admired the beauty around us and talked about how glad we were that we did it despite being nervous. This trip has been full of leaps of faith, not just when jumping off bridges.

Even though it has only been a week, Zambia has challenged us to jump in, in more ways than bungee jumping. Time and time again, we have jumped into new experiences and situations that are not always easy. For me, learning to adjust to a slower paced lifestyle and going with the flow more has been a challenge. I still ask Jeff for the plan for the day, or month, despite knowing it does not always work out how we planned. I am learning that it is okay and there is beauty in the unknown. Running on Zambian time allows for deeper conversations with Zambians and Zags. By putting my faith in Jeff, Cade, Taylor, and the rest of the ZamFam, I step out into the unknown knowing they will catch me before I fall.

There have already been several opportunities to immerse ourselves in Zambian culture. Today, we jumped into conversations with Zambians at the market and took on our second curio shopping spree (more successful this time). At home, I do not usually take time to talk to all the vendors and people I pass because it is easier that way. Zambia has taught me to embrace the uncomfortable. Taking time to learn about the people I meet makes interaction more meaningful. The first time Jeff threw us into the curio market, we left stressed and overwhelmed. Today we chose to jump into it and left excited from our growth. Taking the leap of faith into bungee jumping, markets, and the other experiences Zambia throws our way is nerve-wracking and stressful at times, but in the end, it is so worth it.

Tomorrow, bright and early, we leave for Zambezi. Right from the start we will be jumping into schools, hospitals, and community classes. I am more nervous about that than I was jumping off the bridge. The situation is new, unknown, and a bit scary. I have only had one classroom placement and now I will be working in the schools and teaching community English classes. Like bungee jumping, there is doubt creeping in whether I am up for the task. Despite the nerves, I will hold on tight to the people around me and take the leap of faith. I know when I am at the bottom, looking at beauty, I will want to do it all over again.

Isa Arredondo
ZamFam ‘26

To my family and Joe: I love you all so much and miss you. I cannot wait to recount my adventures when I get home. Mom, please continue commenting on the blog I love hearing them. The rest of you need to get on that. I will see you in a few weeks!

To TILA: My rose is being here with this amazing group of Zags and reading your comments. My bud is going to Zambezi. My thorn is missing people at home.

To Franny from Katie D and Noah: Happy happy birthday Franny! I love you so much and I hope you have the best birthday! I miss you so much!!! XO, Katie D and Noah

After the sun’s return to the horizon last night, Mr. T, my group’s fabulously knowledgeable tour guide, shared a story centered around a sick lion. I’m going to do my best to recount this fable:

A lion (I’m going to name him “Patrick”) pretended to be sick to trick others into handing him a glass of water, in order to get them close enough to eat for dinner. First comes along a little rabbit, which Patrick stops. Patrick asks it, “hey little rabbit, I’m very sick. Would you mind getting me a glass of water?” The kind rabbit replies, “of course lion. I would be more than happy to.” So the rabbit retrieves and returns the water, and Patrick in turn swallows the rabbit whole. Then comes a big kudu trotting along. Patrick asks it, “hey kudu over there, would you mind getting me a glass of water? I’m sick and thirsty.” The kudu expresses, “oh, I’m sorry you’re sick. It would be rude of me not to help you out.” So the kudu carries the glass of water to Patrick. Patrick, once again successful, feasts on the kudu. Lastly, a jackal comes across Patrick. Patrick asks it, “hey jackal, my friend, would you do a sick lion a favor? Could you bring a glass of water to me?” The jackal replies, “I would, but first you must answer my question. I see the tracks of a rabbit and a kudu that have come here, but no tracks leave. If you can tell me what happened to that rabbit and kudu, I’ll get you your water. So what happened to them?” Patrick swiftly attempts an answer, “Oh, they went to fetch water for me but I’m not sure where they’ve gone. They must have left me.” But the persistent jackal presses further, “There are no tracks leaving this spot from those animals, so tell me what has happened to them.” Patrick has no response. The jackal, understanding what horrors Patrick has done, begins to wail, signaling to everyone that the lion is danger.

Mr. T revealed that the moral of this story is to learn from other people’s mistakes. To learn and make smarter decisions. As we explore Zambia on this trip, visiting colonized landmarks or local villages, I hope we take on this message to learn from our ancestors, previous trip members, and from each other, like the jackal. This simple lesson, illustrated cleverly through animals, made me consider what other ideas animals throughout our own safari could shed light on…

Now to the events of our past two days:
After another bumpy bus ride with inventive seating, we began the first of our two days in Chobe national park on a three hour boat tour. Some personal highlights from this first segment include one hippo’s complete jaw extension, the beautiful patterns of a crocodile’s scales, my contemplations of invading animal life through safaris with Cade, Morgan shouting “big chungus” at a hippo, and Jeff usurping one of Sean’s shoes. I saw Lauren’s message of learning to say no when watching a crocodile snap toward our boat for approaching too closely, and I saw Mary Pearl’s message as the hippopotamuses (hippopotami?) let the water flow over them. We also saw a white bird plucking bugs from an elephant’s skin, which Gee explained is an example of a symbiotic relationship. Both creatures in this instance benefit from the encounter. The elephant gets some free skin cleaning and the bird has a little snack. I witness my fellow zags portray this symbiotic relationship each day, sharing sunscreen, pepto, and smiles, and I’m sure that will only continue into our adventures in Zambezi.

Next came our land safari. We were split up between three cars, eventually settling in two separate camps. Our corresponding tour guides taught us about the indigenous plants, various animal habits, and led us to incredible sights. Our groups drove around tons of impalas, “suicide chickens” (guinea fowl), elephants with “fifth legs” (google at your own risk!), giraffes doing the splits while sipping water, a lion crunching noisily on a dead impala carcass, birds chasing after dragonflies, and a quite striking sunset filled with pinks and blues and purples and oranges. One especially poignant image was a group of impalas, elephants, and giraffes all in a “community” together, as our guides explained. The giraffes could see far and wide, able to alert for any enemies, the elephants could sense movement through the ground and provide tough muscle, while the impalas could monitor close to the ground. They each used their natural gifts and specialized skillsets to help the others, similar to the symbiotic relationship, as we also adapt to each others’ strengths. Some of us are able to stay calm under pressure, like Jeff always knitting no matter the danger and bumpiness of the road, and some of us can bring never-ending laughter like Liv.

After our incredible sunset, we gathered under the starry night sky within our respective camps. Mr. T pointed out that the big star in the sky is actually the moon. “Jay Bless,” one of the cooks, proudly shared his music and love of answering questions saying “No, ask me” when inquired whether someone else should answer some questions. Some of us even heard lions outside our tents at night, but unfortunately, no, Sean’s snoring was in fact not a lion. Mr. T identified a pale-spotted owlet, solely from its quiet call, stating how it uses its night-vision, similar to lions, to hunt down its prey while they are disadvantaged.

We woke up bright and early at 5:30, starting the day off right with more delicious Kalahari food, then spent most of the rest of the day continuing to explore the gorgeous landscape. We learned how to be patient, like the nimble jackal, circling a group of impalas and waiting for the opportune moment to snatch its prey, in addition to the “loser” impalas, rejected from the others, teaching us to find sanctuary and connect among friends who have gone through the same experiences. Following a kind gift of sandwiches and apples from the Kalahari tour group and reuniting with our separated groups, we returned back to Zambia. Over a barbecue around the fire, the 21 of us recounted our highlights, concerns, and what safari animals we believe fit each individual best.

Although some excellent lessons can be acquired through observing these animals in their relatively natural habitats, perhaps I ought to also acknowledge that not every trait ought to be followed: guinea fowls jumping directly in front of cars, male impalas tiring out female impalas, snakes cannibalizing each other, etc. Nonetheless, I find it fascinating, like Mr. T, that so much can be learned by simply observing. He’s been a safari guide for over 20 years and says he could never get tired of these wonderful creatures. We can be a clever jackal, outsmarting any “sick” lion trying to take advantage of us… Or at least if we get eaten, we can help others along the way.

Noah Barron
ZamFam ’26

To family & friends:
Although you guys know I enjoy my personal space and all, just know there’s not a day that goes by without thinking of you. I miss settling down and watching tv with you each night, mom and dad. (No spoilers on the Survivor finale!) I miss competing with you in connections, Cathleen. (Happy early birthday mom and Michael, too!) I miss having the opportunity to call and chat with you all at any time. I miss being able to do improv with GUTS twice a week. I miss our cog dinners. And I miss everyone’s smiles! But I’m very happy to be where I am and with the people I am with. See ya’ll soon!

We need water to live, in more ways than one. I am no expert in human biology, but I do know that one for sure. The sheer number of jugs of ShopRite water that we have consumed over the past three days will tell you that for certain. Water has a special way of calming people and I am no exception. I remember a specific instance when I was upset, and my mom stuck me in the car and drove to Lake Washington. On the drive she did not say a single word, instead letting the water do its job. Moments later I was breathing deeply and ready to talk. Water flows through every part of my life. In the Willamette River that runs through the city I call home. In the swimming pools that hold some of my most cherished memories. In the waves of Puget Sound crashing against the sand of my favorite place in the world. Although water makes a great impact on each of us, in different ways, I have found that there is little we can do to affect it. Water will continue, through diversions, against obstacles, noticing and feeling all of it, but continuing to flow. We may change the water, if only for a moment, slightly diverting its path on its way to its final destination.

As the waters of the Zambezi River poured over each and every one of us earlier today, I was once again reminded of a favorite phrase that was truly embodied in today’s experiences: “It’s about who chooses to stand with you in the pouring rain. When they could have chosen to be dry.”

Hiking along a cliff opposite Victoria Falls, this group was nothing short of ecstatic. Soaked to the bone, we exuded the sounds of laughter, excitement, and pure unfettered joy. Walking (sometimes skipping) with hands stretched to the sky, I couldn’t help but feel the beauty all around me. Yes, in the world’s largest single curtain waterfall but more in each Zag next to me. In Meg getting all of us to lay on the ground as the water continued to fall on our backs. In Taylor stomping in every puddle with me. In Sean’s commitment to filling up his water bottle via the sky. In Liv’s smiles despite her hair returning to its natural state. I watched the water wash over each of us. As it fell no one refused to get wet or tried to divert its path, instead choosing to let it pour. I am not sure I knew it at the time, but this quote of choosing to stand in the rain would come in handy for me as our group continued to complicate our experience of the day.

In the afternoon we headed to the Royal Livingston Hotel. We were greeted not only by a delicious high tea dining experience but with the stark comparison to the rest of Zambia we had experienced. The Hotel’s gleaming white walls, grand pianos, and perfectly trained zebras were pretty much as far as we could get from the street outside our hostel or the people outside our windows on the bus ride yesterday.

Beyond the window of our dining room, I once again saw the rushing waters of the Zambezi River. Instead of the sheer joy I found in droplets washing over my face, I had a whole new set of feelings. We continued the evening and watched the sunset over the river, once again watching its foaming deep blue waters rush over the edge. Here in the Royal Livingstone Hotel, twisting and turning waters below the cliff were obscured. The rush of the water, falling, and twisting until it hit the bottom was replaced by a quick rush of water to the edge and a plume of mist. The Hotel in some ways obscures the Livingstone that we knew we walking in its doors while at the same providing for the livelihoods of the staff who would never be able to stay there. It is messy, it is complicated, and it is not good or bad.

Water is not inherently bad or good. It allows the food we eat to grow and fuels our lives. At the same time it erodes, it washes away, and floods people’s livelihoods. It twists and turns and changes direction. That is representative of our day, maybe even of Zambia so far. We are sitting in the messy middle, riding the pendulum between two opposite ways of life, trying to find moments where differences can coexist. Not trying to shape or steer the water, instead letting each drop individually hit our faces, roll down our necks, and fall to the ground, eventually rejoining the collective and starting again.

I hope to stand in the shower and feel each drop. Understanding that the path the water takes may change the way I move through the world. I hope to find joy in the coming weeks of watching the droplets hit my ZamFam. The rain will hit them each differently and trace a unique path upon their life. The droplets will be good, bad, and everything in between. The lines they leave will be reasoned with and reflected upon. I cannot stop the rain by telling it to stop instead, just letting it pour. It never rains forever.

I am feeling a deep sense of gratitude that I am not standing in the rain alone. These incredible humans have dived in head first, some of them cannonballing into learning through and being shaped by these experiences. Today and in the coming days we will choose to stand in the pouring rain, hand in hand, and be soaked, once again by the waters of Zambezi. What a gift.

Sincerely,

Mary Pearl Haney (ZamFam “26)

Mom, Dad, and Ellen, I hear you in the laughter that follows this group and in birds that wake me up most mornings (although I could not tell you the species—have not spotted them yet). I feel you in the hugs from my ZamFam and the rushing Zambezi river as it falls over my shoulders. I see you in the smiles from strangers and in the blue butterfly that followed me today. I love you to Zambia and back, I anxiously await hearing of all your adventures. Love, MP

Notes from the Zags:

Happy Birthday Pheobe!!! You are my favorite person, so proud of you! -Love Margaret

This group is headed out on Safari (woot woot)! So there will be no blog tomorrow, but don’t fear, it will return on Friday! See you on the other side!

Yesterday we visited our first Curio Market! Outside the EastPark Mall there were about 15 vendors selling a variety of items – carved wooden animals, acrylic and oil paintings, chitenge clothing, and much more. While Jeff, Cade, and Taylor went inside the mall to get Zambian SIM cards, we had the hour to explore the market. Most of us entered feeling excited to view the trinkets and meet new Zambians. We exited feeling a wide range of emotions – overwhelmed, confused, and curious.

I spent the whole hour in the market and was the last of us Zags to leave. And if you know me, then you know that taking my sweet time and often being the last is a trait of mine. I’ve learned to accept being the tortoise. Yet, it was easy to take so much time because for each booth you were bound to spend at least ten minutes talking with the vendor.

A common start to the interaction would be, “Hey sister, my name is Chris, what’s yours?” And we would shake hands and he would proceed to show me his artwork. Me being me would ask a lot of questions. I tend to also do that. “What’s this made of? How long did it take you to make it? What’s your favorite piece of artwork to make? Etc.” Of course, the vendors want you to buy something after spending so much time talking and they also have advanced sales tactics, and I mean advanced. Most of the time however, we just wanted to look around. As for my exit strategy, the first four vendors I was able to leave without purchasing an item by saying, “no, thank you.” The last vendor I talked with, however, swayed me to purchase a couple items and get a “deal.” This seemed like the only possible way to get out of the stall. Then exiting the entire market, I replied to the many “hello’s” by saying, “I need to find my group. It is time to go.” So, while it seemed easy to enter conversation, the consequence was that it was extremely hard to say “no” to the vendor and to leave.

This wonderful group of zags, we are “yes” people. We said yes to coming on this trip! Yes to the unknown, to the uncomfortable, and the long travel days. (I say this as we are sitting on a ten hour bus ride to Livingstone with the windows open and ZamSip yogurts being passed around.) Cade only had a week to prepare and he even, with much gratitude, said yes.

We as a group are learning that saying no is hard. Many of us would consider ourselves people pleasers and don’t want to be seen as rude or demanding. We value empathy and the act of being relational. But, we are also learning that saying no is totally okay, is often necessary, and is a key form of self respect. The specifics of boundaries, of how, when, and why to say no, we are still figuring out. There will be many more times during the next month where we will encounter and decide this. For example, we already know we will be visiting another Curio Market and apparently the market we visited in Lusaka was our training ground… Today even, we had an opportunity to practice navigating this. What does it look like to say no to a random person who we have no relationship with, asking for money? Looking forward to continue growing. As Lily and the Lorax sang on the long bus ride today, “Let it grow.”

Now for some family messages:

From Sam – Happy birthday Meggie! Drivers watch out!

From Lily – Happy birthday Mom! I love you!

From myself – Hugs to my wonderful family and friends. Love you to the moon and back.

• Lauryn Anderson (Class of 2028)

During my time at Gonzaga, I have always felt somewhat self-conscious for choosing a school so close to home. For those of you who don’t know, I grew up 25 minutes North of Gonzaga’s campus, and as many of you know, ties to Gonzaga not only dominate Spokane, but they infiltrate places all over the United States. In many ways, choosing Gonzaga meant accepting the perspective of the world that I had known my whole life. This was particularly concerning for me because I still believe that moving away for at least a short time is fundamental for someone to begin to shift their perspectives away from what they have been conditioned to know as “normal.”

After my first semester of college, I was convinced that I hated Gonzaga. I didn’t feel like I had any friends, which made being stuck in Spokane feel so much worse, but what started as sitting in the uncomfortable soon transformed into the most intentional community I have ever been a part of. I experienced this same parallel during my time in Zambezi last year. Initially, I found it difficult to find my place in the group. Not only did I not know any Zambians, I also hadn’t met any of my fellow Zags. I questioned every conversation I had, thinking that surely the only reason these people are nice to me is because they know I don’t have any friends. When I struggled to connect with Zambians and inevitably ended up talking about the weather, I didn’t feel like I had place enough in the group to express how deeply confused I was and how incapable I felt, even though we were all experiencing the same thing. Despite my time in Zambia feeling uncomfortable all the time, it is ultimately this experience that led me to recognizing the importance of home. In one of my final Zambezi reflections last year, I wrote: Not everyone is your family, but you can find family everywhere. I know this sounds really cliché, but the principle that this speaks has come to shape the ways I have grown not only in Zambia, but at Gonzaga as a whole. My time in Zambia taught me that connection requires a lot of failure, but there are good people everywhere, some places just require a bit more digging than others. Sometimes it is hard, and sometimes it is easy, we are flawed humans after all. Ultimately, when we let each other into our heart is when we find belonging.

As I come to terms with the fact that I will be returning from this trip to a different Spokane than I left, I know that I have a little piece of home all across the country. I have a home in Jacksonville and in Eu Claire. I have a home in Bellevue and a home on Oahu. I have a home in Martinez and I have a home on Indonesia. I have a home in all the people that have carried me.

After “graduating” one week ago, I was asked countless times if I was excited to graduate. To be honest, I wasn’t. I was deeply sad that all of my friends would go from being scattered across the Logan to being scattered across the world, and I was confused as to how I would process all of this sudden change in my life in a single weekend. While I feel like graduating was pulling my heart in a million different directions, sitting in SeaTac settled my nerves when I realized that Zamfam ’26 feels like home. This group is nothing but pure joy and excitement for the experience. They think and feel deeply for their surroundings and sit in the complexity. Through the inevitable nerves, doubt, and hesitation, this group has already displayed deep curiosity and reflection for what we are encountering. It turns out that not every piece of my Gonzaga home has been pulled from me quite yet.

On the plane, I sat by a Zambian woman. Like many other Zambians I have met, she has spent her whole life in the same place. In this instance, this place is Lusaka. She told me how much she loved where she was from and that she is proud to be Zambian. I began to remember that my time in Zambia last year began to shift my thoughts about staying close to home. I thought of how Brudas, a PT at the Zambezi District Hospital, told me how proud he was to be from Zambezi and how deeply committed he is to growing the community. It is stories like these that shifted my perspective of staying in Spokane. I have come to realize how lucky I am to have a place that I can confidently call home. Not only is Fairview the weird street that I drive on to get to my Grandma’s house, it is also the name of my favorite pizza at my favorite restaurant. Not only is Waikiki Springs where I would hammock during Covid, it also borders Bozarth, where I have forged some of my most special retreat memories at Gonzaga. Not only is Whitehouse the street I call home, it is also the running route for Gonzaga’s cross country team. I am lucky to have a true home, somewhere that will grow alongside me as my own perspectives of the world are challenged. Today, Cade read us a quote from Dr. Kenneth Kaunda, “Do not become so wrapped in your studies that you forget the people from whom you have sprung…education is of little value if you lose the human touch.” I am formed to better the place that has formed me.

Today we toured UNZA and had our first curio market experiences. As the group challenged ideas of privilege and discomfort, I couldn’t help but feel honored to accompany them on this journey. One moment from today made me particularly excited because it was a moment that I knew would kickstart how truly welcoming Zambians are. When we were touring UNZA, Jeff was asking for directions to the library. This brief interaction led to an hour-long tour from professor Trevor Mwansa, a sacrifice that I wouldn’t have understood last year, and that I can only describe now as one of the reasons Zambia feels like home.

Home is welcoming. Home is belonging, regardless of where you are coming from. Home is community. Home is connection. Home is presence. Home is dedication to steward those around you.

I am beyond excited to accompany Zamfam ’26 as they come to see why Zambia has become somewhere that feels like home. Yes, home for me is deeply rooted in Spokane, but my time at Gonzaga has also taught me that my home is found in the people that I let into my heart whether they are lending me clothes after losing my luggage or reading the blog knowing that they too are growing from the experiences that will shape my perspectives.

Taylor Mularski

Zamfam ‘25, + ’26

Mom + Dad + Family: I hope you enjoy reading the blogs, there are going to be some great ones coming. Sorry for the lack of pictures of me, since my phone works I have been the one behind the camera. Don’t worry though, I am still in the same outfit that you dropped me off in, so you can use your imagination.

Zamfam ’25: Thank you for shaping my experiences in Zambia so well. I keep reflecting back on our trip; so grateful that you all carried me through. Also, I got my first glimpse of the giraffe constellation tonight!

Unit 2: I hope some of you are reading this, and I am still in denial that I will not be returning to the townhouse in June. I miss you all so much, and I hope that Sammamish, Alaska, and Wisconsin are treating you well!

Twenty-some odd hours in planes, thousands of miles travelled across two continents and two oceans, some serious sleep deprivation, and a lost bag upon our arrival in Zambia…, but we are finally here and the adventure has officially started! Everyone on the team was nothing short of phenomenal – displaying attitudes of grace, flexibility, and unwavering enthusiasm in the midst of the challenges of travel (a big shout out to Taylor for responding so well to the loss of her bag). And now that we’re finally on the ground, the same gracious attitudes, along with a real spirit of Zag helpfulness (and humor) continue to shine out even more brightly in the lives of our student team members

Even packing into a rental bus like sardines in a can (check out those smiles) or funky showers with no hot water at our Lusaka hostel (kudos to you Noah) can’t dampen the enthusiasm and obvious sense of enjoyment among us (just check out those radiant smiles). Even more importantly, even though it’s only been one day, we’re already beginning to fall in love with the Zambian people. Thank you Carttess, C-5 Eucharia, and Father Sydney Lubinda for sharing your light with us this afternoon and at dinner tonight. With people like you as our teachers and a month of ‘in-country” opportunities to learn from in front of us, may our time here in Zambia end up being the stuff of real and lasting transformation. The flame has been lit. Now let it be nurtured in us both by what we glean from the experience as well as by what we give. May it grow and spread in our hearts and may we never be the same as a result.

Cade Christensen
English Language Center

If you’ve read this blog at any point over the last 19 years, you have likely done so to follow along as a loved one or friend embarks on a journey to learn about, from, and alongside the community of Zambezi. As significant as that learning can be for many students, a past traveler on this program recently reminded a group of us who’ve taught in Zambezi that a fundamental purpose of our presence in the community is to focus on truly being with the residents of Zambezi we meet.

We will be departing with the 2026 group in two weeks, and this reminder has been on my mind. During the upcoming Gonzaga-in-Zambezi trip, we will undoubtedly be engaged in knowledge and culture exchanges as we travel in Zambia and Zambezi, and the blog will certainly be a space to share about those kinds of observations and experiences. At the same time, I look forward to leaning into the work of being in present and attentive community with a group of 18 Zags who will experience Zambia for the first time. And, I look forward to this blog being a space where you can read about that work.

This will all begin to take shape as we depart Seattle on May 14. Please check by this space again soon after then. We are excited to share this journey with you!

Now that this part of our journey is wrapping up, I am sad to note that this will be the last blog post for Gonzaga-in-Zambezi 2025. It feels like a lot of pressure, but I hope this does it justice!

To be so completely honest to the strangers that read this blog, I was terrified in the weeks leading up to this trip — terrified of meeting so many new people, terrified I would not form meaningful relationships, and terrified in my lack of knowledge of what the Zambezi community would be like. Now, looking back on those feelings, I can’t help but laugh. This community that I was so scared of meeting has become my second home these past 3 weeks. The people of Zambezi have welcomed us with open arms, hearts of excitement and gratitude, compassion for our lack of Luvale/Lunda knowledge and love for more of God’s people. With all that they have shown us, the best thing this community has offered to us is teaching what true accompaniment is.

In my previous blog post, I focused on human connection and wrote “connections don’t have to be some grand gesture, and oftentimes are formed in moments we don’t notice or remember”. The same can be said about accompaniment. Within our group of 18 zags, we have lived by accompanying in the quiet moments — as we walked to the Zambezi River to watch the sunset, trudging through the sand on our way to the market, and the loving glances when someone’s “person” comments on the blog.

Every time my parents comment on the blog (hi you two) and their names are read aloud, I know the tears are coming. It’s become a little joke when they comment now, as all of the zags turn to look at me when their names are read, and I try my best to make it 5 whole seconds before crying. The truest form of accompaniment I have felt is in those moments, when inevitably the zags who chose to sit next to me offer an arm rub, hand squeeze or a hug.

Every year, on one of the last nights in Zambezi, Gonzaga students are asked to invite a person that has accompanied them throughout their time to “The Accompaniment Dinner”. Guests are invited for a night of yummy food, trivia questions, and lots of photos to remember the smiles of our favorite Zambian people!

My dinner guest was a young man named Musoka, who was an A+ student in our English class. He showed up to every class at least 10 minutes early, with a giant smile on his face, eager to learn more from what we had to offer. On the first day of class, Musoka showed up with his arm completely bandaged from his wrist to his elbow, I was concerned about what had happened. He shared with me, Sarah, Natalie and Becca that he had gotten hit on the forearm by an iron bar. He said it so calmly that I was slightly thrown off, but his calm presence became something I continued to gravitate towards throughout the 3 weeks of classes. For the final project in our English class, we asked our students to write a 1.5-2 page paper, reflecting on an object that held significance to their life and who they were as a person. Musoka wrote a detailed and emotional piece about a picture frame being his item and how this ties back to his late mother as it holds a special photo of her. He taught me accompaniment through the way he trusted us in teaching him, but also the way he trusted us with his raw and emotional story.

As much as Musoka is AWESOME, there are so many other awesome people we have met during our time. So, here are short highlights of each person our ZamFam invited to the accompaniment dinner:

Grace is a teacher at Chilenga, who Carly said practiced accompaniment by trusting Carly’s ability to teach her 2nd graders, guiding Carly through teaching in an unfamiliar environment and language, and sharing the wisdom that comes from being an experienced teacher.

Nathan accompanied Kamy by sharing nursing school advice and providing opportunities for the health students to grow and learn more about Zambian healthcare.

Steve was my and Cate’s homestay host-dad! Cate felt he accompanied her by educating us on Zambian culture while teaching us the importance of letting loose through music and dance. (We danced A LOT)

Monica is a teacher at Zambezi Boarding who accompanied through trusting Caroline M., Katy and Mia to teach the secondary computer class, reassuring them of her trust, which helped increase Caroline’s confidence in teaching.

Mary is one of the local tailors, who Sean felt accompanied as they sat and chatted many times, instead of making it a transactional relationship. Their relationship was bound tight as Sean learned her life story and what motivates her.

Becca felt accompanied by Mercy and Andrew, two English teachers at Zambezi Boarding, as she learned about teaching in a Zambian secondary school and was given the opportunity to step into their classroom.

Eunice showed accompaniment as she warmly welcomed Alea into her home for her homestay and made her feel truly welcomed in Zambezi.

Nancy and Trinity are the sweet women who have helped us with our laundry and keeping the convent clean throughout our stay. Sarah felt accompanied as she and Nancy sat and did laundry together, as well as when she and Trinity hung out in her room as Trinity cleaned.

Ruben and Francis work in the hospital’s lab, and Sloane felt accompanied as they took the health students in and taught them more about procedures. They created a safe, inviting and fun environment that helped the group learn more about health care.

Katy met Charity randomly in the market, and they ran into each other a handful of times during our stay in Zambezi. Katy felt accompanied as she was invited into Charity’s close community and space, as well as through Charity’s willingness to always talk.

John accompanied the business class way before we even arrived to Zambezi as he worked to promote the class and do the heavy lifting on the administrative side of the class. Mia felt accompanied when John would show up everyday to class, not to help teach but to watch and support silently.

Dr. Clayton is the main doctor at the Zambezi District hospital, and Ellie felt accompanied as he allowed the health students to follow him around the building, making sure they were informed and up to speed on each patient they saw.

Piper met Mwangala while exploring the market, and felt accompanied as they chatted about lives and the difference in experiences due to the age gap.

Brudas is a physical therapist that Taylor has been shadowing at the hospital. Taylor felt accompanied as Brudas made the experience very hands on and truly ensured the health students learned.

Ester was one of the first Zambians that Kathleen met organically, and she invited her and Sean to sit in the backyard of her house. Kathleen felt accompanied as they chilled and chatted, while appreciating the company and music around.

Natalie felt that Arnold was the first person she had an actually deep conversation with. She felt accompanied in his willingness to sit and teach Natalie about the deeper meanings behind some of Zambia’s cultural practices.

Ephraim is an ophthalmologist whom Jeff met when taking James (the tailor, NOT our James) for a check-up appointment. Jeff saw accompaniment in the selfless way that Ephraim consulted James on his eye issue, with no expectation of being paid and instead chose to use his expertise to serve someone in his community.

James felt that, with Winifrida, the accompaniment was a two-way street as the health students got to accompany her on her visits with her HIV/AIDS counseling patients.

Chipego was a new-to-Zambezi student in the business class last year that Lucia got to know, teach and accompany. Yet, in this past year, the two have grown, and now can accompany each other in learning and teaching each other more about Zambezi and the broader community.

These community members, who come from all different walks of life and around Zambezi, have shown us hands-on what true accompaniment looks and feels like — trusting others in our spaces, offering a comfortable silence to sit in, and sharing knowledge and life experiences with one another. We truly could not do this trip without this community and their selfless accompaniment. As we sat at around for “The Accompaniment Dinner,” I felt the comforting love that emotes from each person we brought; a testament to the power of accompaniment and how deep of an impact a small gesture or moment can have.

There is an African proverb from one of our readings that says “The stranger who returns from a journey may tell all he has seen, but he cannot explain all”… I pray that this blog has given our families, friends and everyone we love, a little more insight into the journey and transformations that occurred through accompaniment during Gonzaga-In-Zambezi 2025!

ZamFam 2025 – Thank you for accompanying me on this trip, I couldn’t have done it without your support to lean on. I’ll see you in the fall, chindeles!

Mom and Dad – Please don’t forget to pick me up from Oakland Airport. Love you!

Lots of love, gratitude and peace,

Caroline Oromchian
School of Education, Class of 2028