Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

Wow! We have already been in Zambezi for one full week – a week that, as my fellow bloggers have so articulately described, has been packed with challenging and eye-opening new experiences, moments of speechlessness at the beauty that surrounds us, and the nurturing of new seeds of friendship. This morning, as I ran along the Zambezi River, I was struck again by the surreal “Lion King like” beauty of the grasslands stretching indefinitely beneath the rising sun. As I ran, I was followed by the chorus of “How are you?” “How are you?” “How are you?” that we have all become so accustomed to hearing every time we step outside. We have found ourselves adopting this script (sometimes even subconsciously imitating the Zambian accent) – greeting everyone we pass with “How are you? Fine. How are you?” In fact, in my very first hour in Zambezi, little Wendy who greeted me at the plane taught me how to say, “How are you? Fine” in Luvale: “Muno yoyo mwane? Kunawa.” It has become a mindless exchange, a five word greeting that follows us everywhere we go. And yet, as this phrase echoed in my mind along my run this morning, I began to ask myself – How ARE the people of Zambezi really? Beneath the script that dictates they are fine, how are they really feeling?

Coming to Zambia, I hoped the answer to this question would be happy. I wanted to believe that, as I had heard several times growing up, the poorest people in the world are the happiest. Stepping off the plane, I did see happiness. I saw hundreds of smiling children, children whose smiles outshone the evidence of poverty that covered them – tattered clothes and dirt covered bare feet. I immediately saw in the children the happiness I wanted to see in Zambia. And yet, since that first day, I have discovered that many Zambians do not share in this happiness. Although my heart continues to beg me to believe otherwise, I cannot deny that many people here are plainly unhappy.

During my homestay, I experienced firsthand life with a Zambezi family. It was not the poverty itself – the absence of running water or the realization that the entire house was smaller than my living room – that disturbed me and pulled at my heart. It was the conversation I had with twenty-one year old Moses, a young man my age. Moses told me that he and most Africans dream of moving to America and never coming back. In America, Moses said, people are not bored because they have “stuff.” In America, people are happy, and, in Africa, they are not. I wanted Moses to understand that the image of America he sees in professional sports and on television is not representative of the real America. People in America live in poverty too, and, people in America, the rich and the poor, are unhappy, too. I found myself speechless. I didn’t want to belittle his own poverty, incomparable to that back home, but I didn’t want to accept the explicit declaration that one could not be happy in Zambia.

As a part of the health education group, I had the incredible opportunity to follow home based care volunteers as they visited patients around the “Bush” or rural villages surrounding Zambezi. We met our first patient sitting on the sand outside of a small shack. Having estimated her age to be about eighty, I was struck to discover that she was only in her forties. Words simply cannot describe the experience. Every last bit of her energy seemed to be drained by the beating African sun overhead. In this woman, I saw not only the effects of the physical deterioration caused by AIDS, but also the effects of emotional deterioration. The woman’s face held an expression of absolute misery and suffering. When asked explicitly what makes her happy, she replied curtly, “Nothing. I am not happy because I am suffering so badly.” Again, I had encountered the reality of unhappiness in Africa. On the face of this slowly deteriorating woman, abandoned by her children and struggling through every day, I saw utter hopelessness unlike I have seen before.

While in Zambezi, I have seen undeniable unhappiness and hopelessness in the voices of Moses and the patients I visited. However, I have also seen hope. Amid great darkness, the light of a single star seems brighter. Similarly, in the most dark and hopeless situations, small flashes of hope shine brightly. Amid the hopelessness of the patients I visited Monday, the home based care workers themselves shone as beacons of hope. Thirty volunteer women without medical training walk miles day after day simply to check in on patients. The patients have already received medical treatment from the hospital, and it is the role of these women solely to check in on how the patient is doing and above all to offer a loving hand.  Although I have only spent a brief morning with these inspiring women thus far, I believe they have shaped me already, by elucidating the importance of love in the career I hope to pursue as a doctor and in our time here in Zambezi.

These women cannot bring the physical healing that their patients so desperately need to strengthen their bodies. Yet, they bring all that they can and that is love. Healthcare I believe is only 25% medical care and 75% love. Love delivers hope even amid the most hopeless diagnosis, when a physical cure is impossible. These women shared love by travelling miles simply to sit on the same level as their patients and help them to see the unconditional dignity of their lives. As members of the health group, we thought that we would teach the home based care workers about health. However, they ended up teaching us about love, an equally or perhaps even more important component of healthcare.

The importance of love stretches beyond the healthcare setting and can help explain the work our entire group is doing in Zambezi. The “disease” we are all combatting is poverty, which we have seen results in the same state of hopelessness as does a medical disease. Like the home based care workers, we do not have an easy cure for the suffering we see. Money we throw at the community, clothes we leave behind, or even the classes we teach are not going to cure poverty. Although we cannot provide the hope of a cure, we can always provide the hope of love. When we doubt ourselves, we must trust in the power of love. I could not tell my new friend Moses how to cure Africa’s economic problems or how to find happiness, but I can continue to show him love through friendship. I trust that this love will eventually bring a form of happiness and hope greater than that brought on by physical possessions. In America and in Zambia alike people are unhappy for various reasons. It is our duty to all slow down, care enough to actually stop and find out if a friend is actually doing “fine,” and then share a little bit of love. According to a traditional Zambian proverb, “one who possesses wisdom has it in the heart, not on the lips.” Over the next three weeks, we must all devote ourselves to sharing the love in our hearts with the people in Zambezi. This is something we CAN all do.

Michelle Brajcich

Class of 2014

Chingoloshi Mwane! (good evening)

Hello to everyone back home! While you all anticipate the moments before these blogs are posted, I dreaded the time when it would be my turn. But here it is, and this has actually been a forced outlet to help me finally reason through some of my thoughts. Inadequacy has been a subtle trend among the blogs and some comments, and that is precisely why I feared this blog. I admire the eloquence, insightfulness, and overall positivity towards life my peers all have. Spending time and building relationships with them has truly been a blessing. They continue to teach me new things everyday about how I want to live.

Last night the power went out during our reflection time. Of course the best ideas when the lights cannot be turned back on is to tell scary stories, so that is precisely what we did. Sixteen “chindeles” all huddled close together in one bedroom surrounding a headlamp. We switched the flap of the headlamp to red to really set the mood. Madame Lucy and Hayley proved to be the best story tellers, filling our minds with the suspense of a near death experiences and a chilling history of the Music Mansion. With the exception of the retreat earlier this year, telling scary stories has been my favorite bonding experience thus far. This and other experiences have led me to find deeper meaning in a quote Dr. Josh shared with us just the other night. “Friendship, real and deep, is the foundation of giving that empowers” – Aaron Ausland. Between us chindeles, our friendship really has empowered me to step out of my comfort zone and be vulnerable with everyone around me.

Similarly, my relationships with Junior, Matubu, and Mirriam, have torn open my heart and filled it with unconditional love. Without any hesitation they each welcomed me into their homes, showed me their family traditions, and offered unheard of hospitality; most symbolic of all was holding a bowl and pitcher for me to wash my hands. They have given me so much: trust, love, laughs, and the Luvale language, and all they ask in return is that I am reliable in our plans and am completely present during our meetings. These three, along with their sisters, Beauty and Rachel, and the rest of the families, have truly become my brothers and sisters in such a short time.

Hailey’s blog asked what we have to give. I think that with our friendships we can empower the Zambians. Empower them to be the difference they are looking for in their lives. It is a common request from the children to, “Give me storybook/camera/ sunglasses.” Giving these things does not build a real and deep friendship. We are not empowering the children, or adults, to be strong in their moments of weakness and push through. They will never feel the overwhelming happiness that comes from success if we give anything less than our friendship.

Last night we hosted Mama Love and her husband Duncan for dinner. Mama shared her story and the hardships she has faced including having a small family that has since passed away. One day Mama began her own foundation to fight for the right of her people. “No one should ever suffer,” she explained. Her foundation, SEPA, advocates for the education of Zambians, specifically the people of Zambezi. She has opened many community schools and provides simple necessities like clothes to those who attend. Mama Love then told a story about an illness she had that she requested to have the highest medical care available. Unless the patient asks, or more so demands, this level of care, they will not receive it. Mama explained most Zambians are unaware they have this right, and therefore don’t receive enough care resulting in death. This was a very powerful example of the importance of education throughout the nation. It is also a great example of how Mama Love is offering a relationship to the community around her to empower them to improve their lives through education.

Whether we are simply kneeling down and making a child feel loved with our attention, or beginning a foundation to build relationships, both instances have a lasting effect on the individuals involved. That is what I think is our gift to the Zambians. As Mateo shared with us tonight, “No one will remember what you said or what you did, they will remember how you made them feel.” My new brothers and sisters have made a lasting effect on my life by making me feel so loved and challenging me to be as equally open with them. Many of us here struggle with the thought of not being able to do enough for the community, but I believe the mutual gift of unity can promote a successful future.

Kisu Mwane,

Lauren Bledsoe, Class of 2015

p.s. gotta go.

Today we woke up and nervously chatted around the breakfast table, gulping down our oatmeal and potatoes. There was a tense undertone to our generally cheery morning rituals, as our team squeezed around the table, which was now filled with flowers, thanks to Tamryn. The first day of our projects lay ahead. After the meal, our health team headed out, and I, with the rest of teaching group, waved goodbye to the remaining leadership and computer groups, not before snapped a couple of awkward first day pictures, complete with backpack and freshly washed faces.

In the four days I have spent in Zambezi, there have been very few moments in which I have been comfortable. I have tasted food that’s stared at me questioningly from the plate, I have stopped and started through awkward half English half Lunda conversations, I have been braver that I thought I could be, stepping out onto a suspension bridge, over the crocodile filled Zambezi River, into jeeps, speeding maniacally though the bush, or soaring over the vast African skyline in a plane smaller that my mom’s minivan.

So, bouncing along the bumping road to Chileng’a Basic School, I wondered why I was so nervous. After a week like the one we’ve all had teaching was going to be the most in my comfort zone that I have been all week. It was familiar. It was safe. And yet, as I looked out the widow at the cheering children out side, their dirty feet pounding the red sand to run along side us, I felt the intense and longing duality that has followed me since I arrived here. I am finding myself, all at once, both completely uncomfortable, and completely at peace. At times, I leap forward, feeling safe enough to take my first steps out over whatever river, metaphorical or otherwise, I needed to cross. And yet, once over that river, I feel myself swaying with fear and discomfort, imagining the long drop beneath.

Saturday night I spent my homestay at the home of Steven and Violet, who live in the bush, with no electricity or running water. I was blessed enough to go with my two fellow Zambia Gold interns, Conner and Hayley. The three of us spent a night that I will remember for the rest of my life. We sat outside, ate nshima, and talked and talked, our stories and opinions flowing as easy and soft as the dying sun. We danced in the unadulterated light of the stars and moon, the unfamiliar angles of the southern cross acting as a touch shining down on us, as we spun and clapped with the children of the compound. It was one of those nights that I used to read about as a little girl, in books too big for my lap. Those stories of traveling adventurers, who spend nights in far away and exotic places, that I loved so much. Throughout the night, the three of us kept looking at each other, wondering, “Is this really happening right now?”

And it was. All of this is happening. And somehow it is ok. We are walking an exciting and unknown line. We waver from comfort and joy, to the sadness and insecurity. This is Africa for me today, that one moment we can be dancing under the stars, laughing with all of our beings, and in another, we can be afraid, miles away from our comfort zone.

At school today, I stood up and talked to the children of classroom 7b about my favorite thing in the world: stories. I told them that stories have beginnings, middles, and endings, and that both good and bad things happen in them. My fingers shook as I held the chalk, and wrote on the board, but it didn’t take long for these children, with their eager hands and there gentle hearts to remind me of the other side of the line, the one we are always walking. There is so much sorrow in life, but when a child dances with you, or repeats a cheer you just taught them, or shows you the picture they have drawn for you, you realized that all of the moments of fear are worth it.

So this week we are straddling the line. For every moment of stepping into the unknown, brings us closer to the greatest gift—unwavering love. I feel it here. I feel it in the children. I feel it in our teachers, the adults in the village. I feel it in my wonderful team. And I feel it, stretching across the sea from our homes. Keep sending it, as we continue to step out in faith, and seek to bath in the light and life of Zambia.

Kisu Mwane.

Lucy Baldwin, Class of 2015

As our first Sunday comes to a close in this lovely Zambezi community, we all share our diverse experiences received through our homestays. For those of you not informed of what a homestay entails, it is simply a chance for this Gonzaga group to truly experience the typical life of a Zambian by spending a night with a local family. Although there are many extreme extroverts in this group, I know I speak for many of us introverted Zags when I say that I was beyond nervous for this experience (one of us may have even thrown up in anticipation… No it wasn’t me mom). However, we all knew that it would be one of the most memorable, illuminating, and exceptional nights of our lives based on the accounts we were given by previous Zambezi travelers. Still, one can’t help but get butterflies in his or her stomach as you hear that it’s your turn to meet the family you will be staying with for the night. My time came as I was removing my freshly cleaned clothes from the clothing line in the courtyard out front of the convent. Mainga strolled inside and Josh selected the two males closest to him, which happened to be Michael and me. While Mainga carried much of the initial conversation, the nerves began to fade on the walk to the Simoonga’s house as we realized that our gracious host was not just friendly, but one of the most easily likeable individuals I have met in my life. At their lovely home, Michael and I were privileged to have great conversation with Mainga, his brother Domity, and their father Alexander. These conversations ranged from what a typical day was like in both cultures to whether or not the first moon landing was a hoax. It was truly amazing how quickly we felt comfortable with this incredible family.

Although there were many similarities between our interests and daily happenings (watching movies, playing video games, and participating in different sports and other outdoor activities), many new and exciting events took place for us. Among these were trying fresh sugar cane and cooking a traditional Zambian meal, which included nshima and, as a whole, was absolutely delicious! It was so refreshing to see the warmth and genuine affection that we were shown as we became a part of their life for that night and following morning. This is a quality that I hope to embrace and internalize when I return to the United States, as I feel that this can be absent in many American’s lives. This, I believe, is due to an emphasis on material success instead of building meaningful relationships and truly experiencing the individuals one interacts with. It is a trap that our culture sets for us, and we must be able to recognize it and overcome it. This is not to say that all Americans are this way, illustrated by the deep and insightful postings we receive by our loving family and friends. I just think that more awareness would go a long way in the US.

At the risk of taking up more time than our long-winded priest did this morning (53 minute sermon = beautiful but long in two different languages), I will just make one more observation pertaining to Zambian humor. I laughed harder with the Simoonga family than I have in quite some time, except perhaps with my fellow Zags on this trip, as they are an extraordinary group. Mainga and Domity kept us entertained with fictitious tales about the origin of things or happenings in their lives. They embellish in a way that leaves your eyes watering and your abs in pain. For an extremely brief example, Michael and I were told a story about the origin of Michael Jackson’s dance moves. It involves and awkward young MJ and a cockroach that worked its way into his clothes. I’ll let your imagination take it from there.

Although each of us had unique experiences during our homestays, from homes with televisions to those in the proper bush without running water or electricity, we all were able to experience the incredible culture, personalities, and authenticity the Zambians had to offer. As we discuss these events, it quickly becomes apparent that these memories will have an impact on how we view the world as we move on with our lives. I can’t wait to spend more time with the Simoonga family, as I am sure we all will with our respective host families. We all owe a huge huge huge thank you to all the families that welcomed us Zags into their homes. They helped ease the sadness of missing our friends and family back home, while also helping us settle even further into Zambezi, our home for the next two and a half weeks. A special thanks to the Simoonga family and to all Zag family and friends back home that are giving us an immense amount of support.

Tunasakwilila mwane (Thank You)

Garrett Sutton, Class of 2014

Hello friends, family, and fellow Zags

We are now fully settled into the Zambezi community. Our biological clocks are now somewhat set to Zambian time although many of us had trouble sleeping with the all night gospel singing coming from the church party next door. Unfortunately the music was more invigorating than relaxing! Since we are up each morning with roosters, many of us follow Josh on runs throughout town and we quickly discover that sand is exhausting to run in! Once you step out of the Convent we are staying in, you see heaps of children eagerly waiting for playmates, cameras, and hands to hold. The children seem to be our first link to Zambian culture but tonight we are heading off to homestays where we can hopefully begin to form relationships with the community and begin to learn more about life here in Zambezi.

Today we ventured to Chinyingi to cross the famous Chinyingi suspension bridge and visit Father Francis and his church and hospital. It was fascinating to see the hospital as a future nurse and realize that despite their limitations, they seem to get by with the hard work of one male nurse, Basil, and 16 health volunteers. Today was a day off from our teaching schedules and the journey to Chinyingi proved to be quite the adventure. Driving in bumpy and packed trucks through the bush with our Zambian driver, Traygo , was exhilarating and according to Connor House, “the pinnacle of his life, even cooler than the Presidential Inauguration!” Alhough I have never seen an Inauguration, I would have to agree.  We all discovered our love of Zambian “Zed” music and on the drive home picking up Traygo’s friend turned our ride into a Zambian dance party complete with hilarious dance moves from our new friend.

Amidst the most welcomed exhaustion, dirty feet, and endless hours of dances, songs, games and adventure, one conversation with a local man caught my attention. After attempting to greet and introduce my self in fragmented Lunda or Luvale, he immediately asked me “what are you bringing u?” I was caught off guard by this direct question. I knew that it was filled with assumptions yet it was a valid question. I told him about our different programs: Health Education, Literacy, Computers and, yet I still struggled with this question. What can I, Hailey Baker, and my fellow Gonzaga peers bring to Zambia and its people?

After spending just a few days here in Zambezi and while now writing this blog I realize that I do not have the answer to this question just yet, in fact I may never know exactly what I am bringing to Zambezi or the impact I will have. I have always been the type to seek out the answers, to draw conclusuons, or to analyze and rationalize my thoughts. Yet here in Zambezi I am flooded with emotions, expectations, excitement and fear and this combination I cannot fully make sense of.  Although I may not have all the answers or the secret to studying abroad in Zambezi, I must focus here on the present. Focus on the sweet songs and handholding with the two little girls, Gift and Memo, that have seemed to claim me. Focus on the laughter in dance games and songs with the children, the impromptu converstations in the market and the constant greetings and welcoming from the locals. I must focus on the sunsets, ways to help my students be more healthy, and the friendship bracelets I have promised to so many. Most importantly I must give Zambezi my heart as this beautiful community has already captured mine.

Kisu Kisu Mwane (Blessings)

-Hailey Baker, Class of 2014

Hello from Zambezi! Thank you everyone who has posted to the blog already. Josh and Mateo read your posts to us this morning during breakfast and it was a very sweet way to begin our first full day in Zambia. Thank you for reminding us that we are loved, thought about, and cherished.

As posted earlier, we did make it to Zambezi after quite a bit of traveling. However, the welcome we received getting off of those bush planes instantly made our fatigue fade into the background.

Taxiing around the corner, I looked out of my window completely taken away. Easily a hundred people had gathered around the spot where our planes would let us off to welcome us to Zambezi. They were singing, clapping and cheering for us. A swarm of children ran up to the planes and pulled us out, taking us by the hand and hugging us from all sides. A group of Zambezi women sang to us “welcome to Zambezi” and another group of school age kids dressed in uniforms also sang to us. Being on the first plane, I had the opportunity to watch as the other planes landed and to see the surprise and overwhelming joy on the faces of my companions as the people of Zambezi surrounded them with love.

From that moment on, I have felt a multitude of emotions. I think this is because my head is trying to adjust to what my heart already knows. These people accept us as their family, especially the children who have claimed each of us as “their” brother or sister. They want to know us, they want us to read to them, to play with them or to simply walk with them hand in hand. Realizing that my presence can be a present has been both joyful and humbling for me. I don’t know quite yet how to make sense of it all. Hopefully, during our first reflection after dinner tonight I’ll be able to process the past two days a little more.

One thing is for sure though, I am thankful to be here in Zambezi and to be experiencing a new culture through the eyes of the people.  I can already tell that Zambezi is a special place. I’m looking forward to learning and discovering more each day.

Much love to family and friends of Zambezi 2013. Look out for daily blog posts from my companions.

Tamryn Aalvik, Class of 2015

After two solid days of traveling, I’m writing to let you know that we have all arrived safely in Zambezi.  Two 10 hour international flights, endless hours in airports and a 3 hour bush plane later, we were welcomed through song and dance into the Zambezi community. As I write these words, I hear the joyful screams and laughter of hundreds of Zambezi children who are playing outside before we walk down to our first Africsn sunset.

You can expect a thoughtful reflection blog tomorrow, but for now, we are well and working to get settled into our new life. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

Dr. Josh Armstrong

After our first ten-hour flight, with a multiplicity of personal movies at our fingertips, a microwaveable dinner, and beverages of our choosing, we land in London. As we creep slowly through security and a second baggage check, some being stalled and taking longer than others, our excitement slowly rises as the distance between us and our soon-to-be Zambezi home slowly diminishes away with each minute spent waiting in Heathrow during our six hour lay over. We try to stay awake to reset our biological clocks to Africa time with tea, company, and caffeine hoping that we can make it to our next flight without falling asleep. For many of us, this trip still feels surreal, a journey that we have anticipated for months, now in complete actuality. The excitement, nerves, lack of sleep, questions, and expectations weigh on each of us differently, but together we travel to beautiful Zambia to experience a world entirely different than the ones we have left behind. This past semester we all participated in our Intercultural Perspectives of Leadership course attempting to understand the lifestyles, ideologies, and philosophies we will come into contact with during our month away from home. Although we may have prepared with readings and discussions in the classroom, nothing can truly prepare you for a trip like this. The uncertainties we may have in the ways we will adapt to such a new environment fade into the happiness and giddy feeling we all get when thinking about being in Zambezi. “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” So ask yourself, “Where does my comfort zone end?” Once you find it, jump across that boundary into the unknown…

We will be flying overnight to Lusaka, another ten hour flight, and then arrive there in the early morning. Our first full day in Zambia awaits. So much love to all of you who are home supporting us and wishing us well.

Mateo Trujillo, Class of 2014, Zambezi second-timer

In the Gonzaga University Student Chapel, on the Monday of Spring Finals week, gathered students, faculty, staff and parents of the Zambia Study Abroad programs to participate in our “missioning” service.  We heard poems and verse from each program,  inspiring words from Dr. Raymond Reyes, and a blessing from Fr. Frank Case.  However, I was touched deeply by the reflection from student Brady Essmann, Zambezi ’12.

Brady articulated the advice of many Zambia alums: try to manage your expectations.  Just enter into the experience.  However, she had some thoughts on expectations that I found to be very insightful.  Brady shared with the gathering,

“So what can I expect, you ask?

In the most base way, expect to take shorter showers.

Expect to be pushed beyond the limits of your comfort in the best way.

Expect to be the happiest you’ve ever been with the least you’ve ever had.

Expect to get dirty. And expect to have to be okay with that. Be okay with the dirt.

Indulge in the happiness of the people around you.

Expect to feel exposed in the healthiest way.

Expect to arrive preparing to teach, and depart having learned more than you could ever imagine.

Expect to live in this concept of “Zambia time,” perhaps for many being departed from the distractions of technology for the very first time.

Expect to need to trust what your heart knows, even despite the desolate sights your eyes may see. Let you heart truly understand and feel what your head knows. Expect to look past the poverty to understand the meaning of kinship.

Expect to have your heart broken. And be changed, if you let it. Keep your heart wide. Your eyes open.

Wake up each day wondering, “what will I see today, who will I meet?” And be aware that every interaction you have, you have something to learn. And that’s not just in Zambia – while I may have learned it there, it is something I continue to cherish most about that experience because I know that this happens wherever I am.

Go expecting to find the beauty in the small things. Because those are the moments I remember most. A conversation over a cup of tea. A long walk home. A small hand intertwined with mine. A rusty, broken gate.”

I hope you will join us on this journey.  Each day, another Gonzaga student will be updating our blog as we work to accompany others in this learning experience in Zambezi.  Our journey begins Tuesday, May 14.

Dr. Josh Armstrong

It’s been a little crazy lately. First world crazy. The kind of crazy that involves preparing for final exams, grading papers, packing for a journey, finishing a semester strong, spending time with friends and family.   In about ten days, 16 undergraduate students from Gonzaga University will embark on another transformative experience in Zambezi, Zambia.

We hope that you will follow along on this journey, that you will laugh and cry with us as we work to accompany others, develop new intercultural competences, and reflect on our leadership and impact in the world.  Students will be posting daily with reflections on this journey and we hope that you will walk a few steps with us along the paths of Zambezi.

Our Zambia Missioning Service is this Monday, May 6th at 4:30 pm in the University Chapel.  We hope that any Zambezi alums would join us as we bless the upcoming journey.

Dr. Josh Armstrong