Gonzaga-in-Zambezi

Today has been a difficult day for all of us, as it is our last day here in Zambezi. It has been full of goodbyes, hugs, and celebration.

We had our business and leadership class graduation this morning, where we gave out snacks, juice, and the hard-earned certificates to each of our students. Mama Mary started a dance party by singing a song that we learned from Mama Josephine so that we could all celebrate together. We are going to miss each and every one of them so much. There were hugs and pictures with every single member of our class as well and lots of contact information exchanged so that hopefully some of us will keep in touch. It’s going to be hard to leave tomorrow.

Seeing the convent walls all bare has felt strange, and everyone seems to be in a bit of a funk today: conflicted about leaving but excited to go home. There has been so much fun, love, joy, and happiness here that makes us sad to leave, but also hardships and homesickness that we can’t wait to move past. It’s extremely confusing to feel sad and excited at the same time, and at least it is a feeling we can all share with one another.

After class I spent some time sitting outside watercoloring cards for some important people who I’m really going to miss here and watching the ducks/chickens wander the yard.

Glance came by for a quick meeting and it was a sad goodbye for me as she is a strong woman in this community who I will miss dearly. She gave an amazing business proposal for an all-in-one beauty salon (including nails, hair, and makeup) that she dreams of starting, and her business proposal was so well thought out and organized. I hope to see it flourish one day.

I took my last trip to the market with Lauren, Grace S., Clare, Grace E., Maddie, and Sierra. We visited tailors, got some drinks, tried to hunt down chips spice (which was a sad fail), and I said goodbye to Wendy. It was a difficult goodbye and she gave me a gift to remember her by that I will never forget. It was a cute flannel jacket and some elephant pajama pants that both fit perfectly.

Eucharia came to say goodbye and I can’t even begin to explain how much I am going to truly miss her with my entire heart. Her sweet smile and kindness is something I will never forget and I hope that someday I may see her again even though I know it’s unlikely. We dropped her at home on our way to the Royal to watch the sunset and got to wave goodbye to Eucharia, David, and sweet little Grace. I won’t lie, I shed a tear as we drove away. I will miss this family so so much.

We enjoyed the sunset together at the Royal and tried to cherish every last second we have together. I’m so not ready to leave these girls and glad we have a few more days before we separate.

It’s so hard knowing we are leaving and will most likely never see all of these people again. It’s the hardest goodbye and I can’t even describe what this experience has meant to me. It’s something I will share with these girls forever. We have so much love for Zambezi.

Can’t wait to see you soon to all of my loved ones at home – I miss you and love you bunches!!

Megan Benham, ’23

Chingoloshi mwane to us here in Zambezi and howdy to y’all back stateside! It’s Bella again, but today I have no visual day in the life for you. This is because when I asked Jeff if I should do that again, he replied, “That was an extraordinary pain in my ass.” (It’s true; we were up for at least an hour and a half trying to format those pictures.). Pictures or no pictures, today saw many monumental moments for the various teams here in Zambezi: The education team spent its last day at the Chilenga School. The business team and a panel of local leaders listened to project proposals and deliberated on potential funding, and the health team held its graduation! As one of the leaders of the business team, I was awed by how students used the discussions we’ve had in class to construct thoughtful community development plans centered around their individual passions and values. The group spent the rest of the day at the convent to the tune of my overworked JBL speaker, which blasted Taylor Swift’s complete discography and Shakira (per Mama Katendi’s request). We were cleaning the common rooms, decorating photo booths, mashing potatoes, baking cookies, slicing fruit, and boiling spaghetti because tonight is a very special night: At 17 hours (but probably later because #ZambiaTime) we’ll be hosting about 40-50 of our best Zambian friends for our annual accompaniment dinner to celebrate the relationships we’ve built here and share some final moments together before we go back to real life (Lusaka) on Wednesday, and then home on Saturday. 

Side note for my sister (if your name isn’t Aniah, you can skip over this): Our flight lands at SeaTac at 12:35 p.m. on Saturday, June 24. Please pick me up then, preferably in Blue. I will be wearing your Shorecrest Volleyball sweatpants and a big smile. It would be great if you would get out of the car to help me with my luggage! Bonus points if you bring a Banh Mi to the airport. I have a feeling I’ll be pretty hungry! 😉 

It’s crazy to think we’ve been in Zambia for almost a month. When I was back home, envisioning my time in Zambezi, I worried a lot, as I’m sure many of your daughters and friends did in the weeks leading up to this big adventure. Reflecting now, the things I expected to struggle with did not really wind up making much of a dent on my experience. I worried about the lack of modern amenities but was pleasantly surprised to find that I can easily survive without all of the comforts of home. I worried about how my stomach would react to the food, but Mama Katendi’s cooking has introduced me to some of my new favorite meals. I even worried about not being able to express myself through fashion, but I quickly discovered that as soon as you leave a consumerist, maximalist environment, what actually matters is who you are on the inside and not the way you look on the outside (shocking!) I worried about getting sick and not getting the care I’m used to back home, but I only so much as sneezed. Of course, I worried about feeling completely out of place here, but the warm welcome we received quickly dissolved that fear. What I didn’t anticipate was facing the consequences of my heart growing to be the size of Zambezi. And now, I’m grappling with how to say goodbye to this place that has changed me forever.  

For the past few years, I haven’t lived anywhere longer than six months before settling into a new place.  From Los Angeles to France, Spokane to Missoula, and back home to Seattle, I have slowly learned to become good at saying goodbye or au revoir to the people and places that have come to mean a lot to me. It’s only grown easier over time, especially with the knowledge that I can always come back to visit, but leaving Zambia feels heavier. In the mere three weeks we’ve spent in Zambezi, which have felt like a blink of an eye and a lifetime all at once, I have grown so emotionally invested in this community and its people. I can already feel the lump in my throat forming every time I think about waving goodbye to Hendrix’s bright smile, or walking out of Mama Mary’s tailor shop for the last time. What do you say to someone you probably won’t ever see again? How do you tell them you might never be back?  The once-in-a-lifetime aspect of this trip is staring all of us in the face, and I don’t think I speak for only myself when I say that no matter what we’ve left behind before, this time, saying goodbye will be deeply difficult and complicated.

Yet, there can be so much beauty in goodbye. When our tiny little bush plane takes off from the Zambezi airport and leaves this sweet, homey little city in the dust, I’ll feel so lucky to be left with the lingering memories of ever-present laughter echoing through the convent halls, long hours spent learning from our leadership students under the shade of the gazebo, countless ultimate frisbee points scored against Debby, and the immeasurable wisdom we’ve gained from Mama Katendi and Mama Josephine. I find so much comfort in the fact that next May, a new generation of ZamZags will gather at SeaTac, not knowing the sights that will leave them speechless, the inexplainable moments, and the incredible people who can’t wait to greet them on the other side of the world. I hope that they will continue to nurture the relationships that we have built during our time here in Zambezi with the same intentionality, respect, and open-mindedness.  

That’s enough introspection for now, though, because the party is about to begin!!! And if you know me, you know I wouldn’t miss a party. I hope all is well back home! Before we all know it we’ll be reuniting with our families and friends in the states. Until then, just know we are soaking up every second in the hot Zambezi sunshine and savoring every shared conversation, delicious meal, eruption of laughter, and three-step handshake we can get while we’re still in this incomparable place. What means even more than a proper goodbye is staying present in the moment while we are still privileged enough to be right here.  

To my family and friends in Seattle and Missoula, I love you!  See you all very soon 😉

Peace and love,
Bella Boom-Haupt ‘23

Sunday, June 18th.

Musana Mwane, readers! 

Kylie here, reporting live from… you guessed it: Zambezi, Zambia! In the spirit of spicing up the blog, please bear with me as I do a little reflecting in addition to a short review of our day. Happy Father’s Day to all of the dads and dad figures, and love to those who struggle on this day.

Our day began with you’re-on-your-own-brekky: Some opted for the reliable PB&J while others switched it up with cornflakes or oats. We fueled up before walking over to the church— luckily for us, it’s just a stone’s throw away. Mass started at 8:30 this morning, so it was very on brand of us to parade out of the convent around 8:32. Oh, Zambia time. 

After the service, some of us opted for a quick jaunt around town while others read books. Many sat in on a friendship-bracelet-making lesson from our kind and patient teacher, Maddie. Down time has been rare, so we were not quite sure what to do with ourselves. Nevertheless, it was much needed and revitalizing.

Lunch came and went (grilled cheese!), and then it was time for the real event of the day: volleyball! Upon arriving to Zambezi Day school, we were met with an abundance of excited Zambians eager to bump, set, and spike. Oh, what fun it is to play sports with the Zambezi community. We got to see a new side of our good friend John Mwewa, who—in his role as referee—demonstrated that he has a passion for rules and protocol.

After volleyball, we took a canoe ride across the Zambezi River to watch the sunset and its light shimmer on the water. Our return called for a little extra strength from our rower and a little bit of patience from us. But we at last made it to shore.

As the day came to an end, we made plans for the big dinner to come on Monday. We expect up to 50 people and lots of food. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s blog post.

In honor of Father’s Day, I would also like to do a little reflecting on the family dynamics that I have observed during my time here. I am both inspired and positively perplexed by the effortless compassion and conscientiousness radiated by every family. It seems like in addition to immediate family members, the home is often accompanied by grandchildren, nieces and nephews, grandparents, and other relatives all living together in harmony. Culturally, women play a crucial role in the home, taking care of all the children—theirs or others—in addition to cooking, cleaning, washing clothes and dishes, selling in the market, carrying water, literally everything. Men farm, tend livestock, hold down jobs in town, serving as the leader and decision-maker of the family. However, there has been pushback in recent years to support women in education and other endeavors. This representation of family has been unfamiliar to me and, at times, uncomfortable to witness. I am missing my family a little extra lately, but I know that it will make our reunion on Saturday even sweeter!

Happy Father’s Day, Pops! I can’t help but think about how much you would love it here. The music, the food, and all of spontaneous adventures. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

Kylie Mukai ’25

Hello everybody!! I am so excited to be on blog duty today! This Saturday started with us all having the opportunity to sleep in!!! YAY! Breakfast was not until 9, so we all got to catch up on some much-needed sleep. I am a new woman now. We had eggs, toast, oats, and cornflakes for breakfast!! It was so yummy!

Today’s agenda is pretty empty. The only group activities we have are playing net ball with our market friend Ben and watching a Zambian futbol game. Many started their morning by going to the market. Megan, Dee and I decided to start the day by going to visit the lovely Kelly and Janet, Kylie’s and my homestay parents). We are having a dinner party on Monday where everyone gets to invite a special guest, so I picked them. They were so welcoming to Kylie and me during our homestay, and I loved getting to know them. While we were there, we met their daughter, Esther. She was so lovely, and I loved getting to talk to a young Zambian woman about her life and experiences. While we were there, even though we showed up unannounced, they still managed to give us some cokes, bread, and fruit. Their hospitality and giving nature are amazing. I even said, “You guys do not have to do any of this” and they looked at me with confused faces and asked “Why?”

Not being so lovely and hospitable is foreign to those who live here. Zambians have a culture of sharing and being incredibly welcoming. I think the United States could definitely learn from Zambia when it comes to kindness. I am going to miss their adorable family so much.

Next, we walked over to the home of Mary and James, who are tailors. Megan and Dee picked up some ADORABLE skirts, and then we headed back to the convent. For lunch, we had a fan favorite: fruit, quinoa salad, and popcorn. Some of us then set off to watch the football game, and the other half went to play net ball. I chose to watch football!  We went to a nice bar, drank some Cokes and Fantas, and watched quite the game. Zambia won 3-0!! Woohoo!!

The other group headed for the field at Zambezi Day School only to find there were no nets for netball. For a while, the group played football and learned that Mama Katendi was a fearless goalie. That woman really can do everything! Eventually, the group decided to play a makeshift game of netball without nets, and they were joined by several local kids. Mama Katendi, who played in secondary school, again showed off her amazing athletic skills.

Today is a very special day for our group because it is pizza and movie night!! Jeff was able to make dough and buy cheese, and we are all looking forward to some delicious pizzas. I am even excited for my no-cheese pizza. (It really sucks being lactose intolerant lol). Clare and Jeff were also able to work together to come up with a plan to get our projector to project a Netflix movie. I think we are going to watch Hitch. YAY!

Today has been one of my favorite days yet. It was very chill but filled with lots of time together and with the community. I cannot believe that we only have three days left in Zambezi. This beautiful place has left a mark on me that will never be forgotten and so have the people who have accompanied me on this wondrous trip. At this point in the trip, a lot of us are devastated to leave but also craving the comforts of home. We have had so many lows over the last few weeks. Whether that had to do with unwanted comments from a few creepy men, car troubles, personal struggles, exhaustion, or cultural shocks, things have been hard. This has made it difficult to be present at times in our last remaining week here. The overwhelming and conflicted feelings of wanting to stay but also wanting to go has made it difficult to cherish the dwindling and precious moments we have left. We have also had so many shining, positive moments. We have given out reusable period products to young girls, taught sexual health classes, allowed many to earn certificates in business and health classes, connected with students at Chilenga and Zambezi Boarding School, learned how joyous it is to talk and learn from the Mamas, met so many lovely people. We have had countless late-night laughs together.

We still have so much to look forward to as well. We have our accompaniment dinner on Monday, more time at schools, graduations for the health and business classes, and many hugs left to give. I have chosen to try my best to focus on the good because I think that is something that we all need to do every day in our lives. Bad things happen everywhere we go. It is sad, but true. You cannot escape the cruelty of the world, but you can always build a new mindset that does not let the bad take over the good. It is important to sit with the hard stuff, really reflect on it and have feelings about it before moving on. I have noticed that this group has been really good at facing our challenges, helping each other through everything, and then finding the light again. The light will always outshine the dark. Our cozy covenant here in Zambezi has become a safe haven and home away from home. I will oddly miss the cold showers, the squeaky doors, the mosquito nets, the laughs I can always hear throughout the halls, and the smiling faces that I see every time I come face to face with a Zaggy. I am so glad that this Zag fam has let a Coug like me tag along for this unforgettable journey. This place, the people, and our group have forever earned a place in my heart and mind. I love you all!! 

Here is yet another update for everyone’s friends and families at home: 

Kylie is so helpful around the convent and is constantly doing little things to make everyone smile. She is such a joyful person to be around. 

Kendall is consistently causing us all to laugh with her amazing impressions and also killing it at teaching the business class (especially any lesson that includes math). 

Maddie is still sick but sweet as ever. She is being so resilient, and I give her mad props for that. I can’t wait to hopefully see her back in the classroom on Monday or Tuesday doing what she does best. 

Bella is a dancing queen and continuing to keep the group energized and happy. I’m not sure what we would do without her. 

Grace E. is still blessing us with her stunning smile, and we have all loved connecting with her through great late-night convos. 

Megan is giggling her way through every day and doing whatever she can to keep our group connecting.

Sierra has picked up the CUTEST skirts and outfits from tailors and is rocking them all. She is also constantly making us all laugh, and her presence makes every conversation much better. 

Clare is such a servant leader, and her willingness to be there for anyone at any time is admirable. We love having her around. 

Grace S. is a joy to see every day. Her smile is contagious, and I love doing silly accents with her. She makes the group so happy! 

Hattie has been in the kitchen helping the mamas I think almost every day. She is also such a servant leader, and she has been such an inspiration to me on this trip. 

Dee is still a safe haven for many, and her sweet and calming energy is a life saver. We have all loved getting to know her more. 

Jeff continues to make his legendary sarcastic comments that we know and love. He works so hard for us, and we appreciate him so much. 

Kris has been so comforting for us all, and her wisdom has helped us all reflect on each day. She looks out for us and is such a momma bear to us even though we aren’t even her children. 

Lastly to my mom, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, friends, and boyfriend I am so looking forward to reuniting with you all. See you guys soon! I love you <3. 

Love, 

Lauren Benham, WSU ’25

Hello to everyone back home from Hattie and the rest of the Gonzaga-in-Zambezi crew! As I write this blog post, I am well aware of how soon we will begin our trek back home. To me, it feels like I am just starting to cultivate relationships and have meaningful experiences as the time for our goodbyes draws nearer. 

This morning I had the opportunity to accompany my homestay host mom, Winfrida, on her regular visits to the homes of HIV/AIDS patients. These patients live on the margins financially and sometimes struggle with isolation and the potential stigma of the disease they carry. Winfrida told me that she usually visits seven patients, but today we only met three. The walk to see those three patients was probably a few miles, and I was left in awe by the way this elderly woman has given of herself over decades to help with something she’s passionate about. 

The first family I met was much like others we’ve met in Zambezi. The mother shared the struggles of providing food and clothing for her children, and balanced their needs with her own desire to return to school (she became pregnant before completing secondary school). The next woman I met was an HIV-positive grandmother who took in her grandchildren after her daughter died of HIV. Though both of these women shared their struggles and asked for support, the 8 month-old twins of the first woman seemed lively and the simple furniture of the second seemed extravagant compared to the meagre life of the third family I met. This patient supported her children off nothing but an occasional odd job. She said she did not know what they would eat today and described the dizziness that results from taking her medication without food. I watched her young daughter start chewing on the remains of a plastic bag; when I looked again it had disappeared. The two young children that sat with us wore clothes so tattered that they barely served their purpose. They did not speak or smile. As I left, the young boy looked on the verge of tears, and I felt incredible remorse that I didn’t have even a granola bar in my pocket to offer to him. 

Despite the hardships I witnessed today, Winfrida was happy to introduce me to a part of Zambezi I’d never seen before. She took pride in the Zambian camaraderie we experienced as we walked, and she encouraged me to take pictures of the modest homes of those we visited. At first I was concerned about invading the families’ privacy and playing into the harmful stereotypes about people in the Global South, but she said it was important to show those back home what they are experiencing here. Despite all that she’s already done, as we walked back to the convent Winfrida shared her frustrations that she could not do more. She explained that if she could, she would set up a shelter at her home and take in those who needed food and a place to sleep until they were stable enough to return to independence. I was inspired by her desire to help those less fortunate, a desire shared by many community members here. They do not have much to spare, but they give away any extra and more. If those with little can give a little, how much more can I, who have so much, give back my time, talents and money?

When I returned to the convent, the health team had returned from their last day at the hospital, where they had visited the ward for HIV/AIDS patients and then learned about screening for cervical cancer. Everyone on the health team said that it was a good way to end their time in the hospital. 

Jeff, Dee, Kylie, Megan, and Lauren were still across the river teaching the Days for Girls and Men Who Know programs in Mize. They said that this group was very mature and received the information about menstruation and the male and female reproductive systems very well. 

Since Dee, Mama’s Helper for the day, wasn’t around, I offered to help Mama Katendi prepare lunch. As I worked alongside her, I thought about how much I will miss the familiar presence of this woman— the companionable silence, laughs, and even tears that we’ve shared (don’t worry— it’s just that there were a LOT of raw onions involved with today’s lunch). Mama Josephine’s departure made me realize that I have grown accustomed to the steady presence of these women, and that it will be difficult to leave.

After lunch, Kris, Jeff, Kylie, Lauren, and I headed to Zambezi Boarding School for the local debate competition. Though we were unfortunately only there for a debate between two other schools, we received news later that Zambezi Boarding won the competition! When I first met these students a few weeks ago, they were just starting to learn the different roles and rules of debate. Now they are the best debate team in the district, and I could not be more proud of them!

This morning I witnessed the devastation and desperation within Zambezi; this afternoon I witnessed its potential. The students and teachers at Zambezi Boarding School radiate passion and inspiration, and I am so grateful that I have been able to be a part of these students’ journeys in my time here. 

After the debate competition and the health team’s last class, a large group of us headed to Debby and Eucharia’s house for our last ZamCity. We played an intense game of ultimate frisbee. Some super competitive sides came out, sometimes preventing the ZamCity kids from getting a turn with the frisbee (cough cough, orange team, which was also Jeff’s team— who would have guessed?). Meanwhile, Grace Ehler’s volleyball instincts came out which led to some sick dives and scores for the green team. 

Though difficult, I will forever be grateful for each and every experience I had today. In one day I saw the rich diversity of life experiences, social status, and income levels here in Zambezi. I look forward to the last experiences we will have in Zambezi before boarding the tiny planes back to Lusaka.

I cannot believe that we will already be leaving in a week. Though we will be sad to say goodbye, we have been fantasizing about the coffees we’re going to get at the airport, the movies we want to watch on the airplane, the foods we’re most excited to eat when we return to the states, and, of course, the loved ones we can’t wait to be with. Thank you all for following along on our journey. See you soon!

Hattie Harrold, ‘26

Musana Mwane from Zambezi. My name is Maddie, and I’m very excited to have the blog again.

This morning, the business team continued to help individuals build their project proposals. They are enjoying learning what business leaders value in Zambezi.

The health team attended a conference organized by a local NGO, Save Environment and People Association (SEPA), with a variety of leaders in and around Zambezi. The conference focused on sexual and reproductive rights. They emphasized that by enhancing preventative measures such as increasing educational opportunities, they can lower teenage pregnancies or underage marriage.

The education team had a very successful day at Chilenga Day School. Hattie sat in on a math lesson about simple interest. Kylie sat in on a lesson about grammar. Lauren taught a really fun lesson about the different provinces in Zambezi, and I attempted to teach a lesson about flowers. Part of the lesson was to find flowers to examine. We went on a hunt for flowers only to realize it was winter and only dead grass could be collected. We spent the rest of the class pretending we had flowers in our hands while I walked around and talked about the pictures of flowers in the textbook. Never the less, the classroom was full of laughter, collaboration, and the desire to learn.

After lunch, the health team taught a lesson about human physiology. They constantly come back with both wholesome and hilarious stories about the things they hear from the people who attend their classes.

The education team and I attended the district spelling bee. Zambia follows the British education system and British spelling patterns, so our spelling knowledge was challenged on some words with British spellings were asked (diarrhoea?).

We had several dinner guests tonight. Mama Josephine shared her last meal with us before she needed to go out of town. We will always be thankful for the wisdom and knowledge that she gave us during our time here. The Muke family also joined us. They are two generations of change agents in Zambezi. They shared how they advocate for a better Zambia and how we can advocate for our own communities.

As we are wrapping up in Zambezi, I wanted to share how I have struggled with being in the spotlight. I am a shy individual who prefers to watch on the sidelines. But here, like the rest of my colleagues, I stick out like a sore thumb. I have been overwhelmed by the amount of children who want to touch my hair and the people who point at me in the market. Some laugh and say stuff in their native language, and when I can’t understand what they are saying, it can make me feel small and insecure. At the beginning of the trip I wanted to hide to avoid that feeling of embarrassment. However, the relationships I have formed helped me realize that instead of hiding when I am laughed at, it’s okay to laugh with them and learn why I look so funny to them. When my host family Linda and Bernard taught me how to eat nshima for the first time, they laughed at me for eating with two hands. By the end of the meal, I was a one-hand nshima-eating pro.

The other day, I had the chance to observe a hairdresser braid hair. Being the honorary hair braider of our group, I was intrigued to figure it out. She let me try and I failed miserably. Everyone in the shop laughed and took videos, and I couldn’t help but giggle myself for how little I knew about braiding. Some students at Chilenga taught me netball. I asked one of my teammates why she was laughing throughout the game. I found out I had been accidentally cheating the whole time and had been messing up the plays. Last week, I attended a church choir practice and attempted to learn some of their songs and dances. Churchgoers were so kind to help me learn the steps in between bouts of laughter. Prior to this trip, laughing made me feel insecure and small but throughout this trip, laughing has taught me that I still have so much to learn around me. How can I learn something new if I’m too afraid I’m going to embarrass myself? There will be many times where I will continue to embarrass myself on this trip and in my future endeavors, but I know that the people around me will be laughing with me and supporting me as I continue to learn about the world around me.

To my family and friends I love and miss you so much. I can’t wait to tell you all about my adventures!

Much Love,
Maddie Ford, ‘23

Musana mwane to everyone following along at home! 

After a rough couple days and some intense bouts of homesickness, it seems our group has reached a turning point. With one week remaining, there will soon be no more musical greetings, no more chatting with Ben while we browse for chitenge in his shop, no more cooking with Mama Katendi and Mama Violet, no more laughing under the gazebo with our health and business students, no more intense games of ultimate frisbee with the ZamCity kids…. You get the idea. We are going to miss it here very much. The clock is ticking and we are soaking up every minute. 

My day began as usual with a sweaty workout while some hit the road for a run and others took advantage of sleep. Clouds like cotton candy were sprinkled throughout the sky, and I said hello to the sun as it peeked over the horizon. A beautiful sunrise, it was. 

I carried my feelings of gratitude and contentment with me to breakfast, where we enjoyed a lovely meal prepared by Hattie, Clare, and Bella. Not much later, I strapped up my chacos, Sierra tied her shoes, Clare put her crocs in sport mode, and the health team—minus Grace S., who was Mama’s assistant today—was off to the hospital. Eucharia greeted us with a shining smile, and looked fashionable as ever. 

My time at the hospital thus far has been an extraordinary learning experience; the nurses and doctors are eager to share their knowledge with us, and I’ve been able to get an in-depth look at healthcare in Zambezi. However, and I say this for the sake of being totally candid, our time at the hospital is often accompanied by immense discomfort. Our role as observers feels intrusive as patients get examined before us, sometimes screaming in pain. During these moments, uneasiness lingers and prods. It asks, what are you doing here? 

I can’t help but spiral into a pit of stress-inducing thoughts. What am I doing here? Who am I, a measly little third year Psychology major, to invade a patient’s privacy like this? What is the point of me being in this hospital setting, where I am useless? Where I can’t even hold the hand of a crying child? Perhaps the cultural difference of privacy not being a priority here is at play, but nonetheless I struggle with these feelings.

I don’t have all the answers, but I keep returning to the purpose of learning; gaining a comprehensive understanding of how a community functions means taking a good look at its healthcare system. It also means getting to know the people who live in said community. Through my hours at the hospital and our conversations with brilliant healthcare workers (plus conversations with other members of the Zambezi community), I have been able to do just that. And so, by embracing my role as learner, I may add even just one brick to the bridge that stretches between different countries and cultures—between Zambia and the United States. To be clear, one month is not nearly enough time to truly know all the ins and outs of a specific society. I can tell you, though, that I have acquired many stories, and I hope to use these stories to paint an accurate picture of Zambia once I am back home.

Some of these stories are personal experiences, and some will be tales shared with me by Zambians. For example, in our cultural lesson today, Mama Katendi and Mama Josephine talked to us about the history of Lunda and Luvale initiation rites for women. They explained that—back when they were young—girls who hit puberty would be taken away and taught how to serve their husbands. This process involved “marking.” I wasn’t quite sure what that meant until Mama Katendi revealed to us the scars on her back, forged by a razor blade during her own initiation. It was common for girls to be subject to this. Arranged marriage came next. 

Thanks to women like Katendi and Josephine, initiation rites like this are no longer practiced with the regularity they once were. Although certain traditions, such as teaching your children about respect, and other less harmful initiation practices, are upheld, the shackles of longstanding gender roles are gradually being broken. Mama Katendi said that she would never put her daughters through what she had to endure, and both her and Mama Josephine emphasized the importance of education being a priority for women. As a woman myself who knows all to well the battles we fight all over the world, their passion is encouraging. I continue to be in awe of them and all the other role models here in Zambezi. 

Following that conversation was lunch, which included quinoa salad! (A fan favorite). We gobbled it down embarrassingly fast, and everyone subsequently dispersed to attend to their daily duties. For the health team, that meant class time. Today’s topic was pregnancy and childcare, and as always, some fruitful discussion was sparked (you can always count on Julius to make things interesting. If you know, you know). I’ve grown to really look forward to these classes, and we have become very fond of our attendees. They never fail to ask thoughtful questions, share insight, or have a laugh. 

The day got even sweeter while spending some time with Kendall and Bella in our cozy room. We talked and giggled until it was time to leave for ZamCity, and then hopped in the truck bed with the others for yet another bumpy ride. On the agenda today: soccer (football, actually). All was well until we were greeted by the ashes of a nearby bush fire (oh no!). The ashes floated down upon us like black snow, and I jokingly stuck my tongue out while Lauren sang “feel the rain on your skin!” Being the bush lovers that we are, we rushed to help put the fire out with buckets of sand and some giant tree branches. 

Add putting out a fire without water to the list of things I’ve learned here! 

Our match resumed shortly. I was alright (I sucked), but Hattie, Lauren, and Kylie shined as they got to unleash the inner soccer player in each of them. Lauren even scored a goal so impressive that I couldn’t help but high-five her, despite being on the opposing team. 

It was a blast and a half. The ZamCity kids are talented and competitive and a whole lot of fun. Seeing their love for sport blossom under Debby’s (the founder of ZamCity) passion makes the athlete in me leap for joy. 

When it was time to depart, Hattie, Bella, Clare, Grace S. and I decided to run home. I don’t know what came over me, because I am by no means a runner, but it was surprisingly peaceful. I enjoyed the beat of our feet pounding the pavement as the sun set and the sky faded into a gentle orange above us. 

I’ll wrap up this blog post by giving you all an update on everyone, as others have done in the past: Kendall is continuing to make me laugh so hard my stomach hurts, Clare remains a stable and comforting presence, Kylie is impressing us all with her insightful comments during reflection, my roomies, Bella and Megan, are sweet and supportive as ever, Lauren has perfected her impressionist/accent skills, Sierra is revealing more and more of her sassy side, Grace’s kindness lights up our days, Dee is being her lovely and caring self, Hattie is kicking our butts on runs, Maddie is showing us all what a remarkable teacher she is going to be, Kris is spreading love everywhere she goes, and Jeff is cracking us up with his sarcastic remarks. 

To all our family and friends back home, we miss you and are eager to reunite, but we also can’t wait for the week ahead. Zambezi is a pretty special place. 

With so much love, 
Grace Ehler, ‘24

About 20 minutes into a rigorous game of dodge ball in the small town of Dipalata, about an hour’s drive from Zambezi, a young man grabbed the homemade ball only to find that it had deflated. His next hand motion was matter-of-fact: squeezing to ensure he expelled the ball’s last breath.

We asked one of our adult hosts, Pepytex—the Saint Clera Catholic Church choir director—if he could explain how the ball was made. “It’s a balloon.”

The ball was handed to another boy, Chiteta, who began meticulously disassembling it. He slowly unwrapped yards of red yarn, gray embroidery thread, and some nondescript string, all tied together to bind layers of cloth scraps, plastic shopping bags, and well-worn paper “trash.”

Chiteta and his mate carefully salvaged each component, rolling the yarn, stacking the bags, and setting aside the cloth and paper. The process took at least 10 minutes.

We asked where they might find a new balloon to remake the ball, and Pepytex said from the nearby missionaries who operate a 24/7 maternity clinic. A few minutes later a new “balloon” appeared. One of Chiteta’s friends began blowing it up, and we quickly realized the centerpiece of these homemade balls is a condom, surely intended to prevent the spread of some STD or other. After Chiteta’s friend, probably nine or ten years old, deftly pushed the end of the condom back in on itself to create a double layer, he blew it up just as our children at home might inflate a latex balloon at a birthday party. It’s clear to us that for all the good medical missionaries might be doing to enhance health outcomes in places like this corner of Zambia, they are (intentionally or not) also enhancing the recreational lives of the local youth.

Chiteta then began the careful process of putting all the pieces back together. He wrapped a piece of the worn paper, almost transparent from overuse, around the balloon, followed by sections torn from plastic sacks and then cloth. Holding the pieces tightly together—sometimes aided by a friend—Chiteta began to wrap lengths of yarn around the emerging ball as we watched his work take shape. With the string snugly bound, he began a second and then third layer, all in the same order. In total, he wrapped the ball five times before his task was complete. Each layer of paper, plastic, and cloth was tightened with a new web of string and yarn. The ball grew larger, the wrapping of the string requiring increasing force with each layer, and the exertion was evident. Occasionally, Chiteta would pass the work to a friend, who’d take an exhausting turn wrapping yarn before handing it back. The final web of yarn was so taut that we could hear the grunt in his breath. Click here to see a short clip of Chiteta and his friends at work.

After about 20 minutes of vigorous and careful work, two boys in rural Zambia had created a reborn football. This is no doubt a scene replayed by children around this country, across the continent, and in countries throughout the Global South.

Chiteta and his friends, like so many of the adults we’ve met here, leave nothing to waste. Any scrap, or even scraps of scraps, are repurposed. Shopping sacks transform into playthings, into near water-tight baskets, into thread that holds together mats made of grass. Plastic bottles get reused to subdivide honey into smaller portions for sale or made into small cars the kids roll around the sand. Loose nuts and bottle caps become percussion instruments alongside a drum for the church choir to use in creating yet another joyful noise. Damage something, even the bumper of a 4×4 truck (ahem, Kris), and watch as someone uses a scrap of wire to replace the missing screw. The examples are endless, challenging nearly every instinct of those of us from a disposable culture.

But this is not to say that all is glorious. The unfamiliar insects and possibly poisonous frogs can be slightly frightening. (Not to Jeff, but nearly everyone else.) The looseness of time can annoy. And the gender dynamics can be infuriating and cause us no end of introspection or challenge. Jeff can be questioned for spending too much time in the kitchen. The women in our group were ushered away from a demonstration on brick building in Dipalata (men’s work) so they could be shown how to pound and sift cassava meal in preparation for cooking (“they need to know how to do this,” we were told). When someone comes to the convent to ask for something or make plans, Kris is asked, “Where is Jeff?” despite her attempts to manage the issue. In one case, a man demanded to see the “big boss.” Gender-based violence continues here, as in the U.S., to be a major social problem, and the women in our group have even felt the discomfort of unwanted verbal attention from some men.

These frictions are, we continually remind ourselves, sites for learning. Just as Chiteta and his friend taught us surprising creativity, ingenuity, and patience, the less pleasant experiences also teach us. The critters can be reminders of the necessary diversity of this ecosystem, and that Zambians know which are pests and which the habitat depends upon. What we perceive as constant tardiness tests our patience and disrupts our plans, but it compels us to recall that time on a clock is a western construct and a poor measure of how to define accomplishment; dividing our day into hours to be conquered isn’t nearly so humane as measuring our days by the relationships we’ve invested in. Even though they are expected to fulfill roles that many of us recoil from, women in this community—as in so many others around the world—are the quiet leaders, advancing local efforts to address climate change, combat teen pregnancy, advance educational persistence, and raise awareness about sexuality and sexual health.

It is within these liminal spaces between challenge and renewal that growth happens, and Zambezi gives us so many opportunities to reimagine our lives and our world. Between the two of us, we have been here 10 times, and we continue to bring students to this complicated place because we continue to be both awed and surprised by how this community always serves as a teacher for us. We hope that our students—and, by extension their loved ones—will continue to seek ways to complicate their perspectives about what it means to be human in a world that tries to simplify and essentialize the complexity of human experience.

For loved ones at home, your students will be taking over the blog again tomorrow. Thanks for giving us professors a moment to share what’s been percolating for us.

Kisu mwane (blessings),
Kris Morehouse and Jeff Dodd

Good morning to loved ones at home,

Happy Monday from Zambezi. Today required more willpower than usual to roll out of bed after our weekend in Dipalata. Hattie’s peaceful alarm (if you heard my alarm, you’d understand why I’m calling hers peaceful) rang at 6:40 am for our regularly scheduled run. Here’s how my conversation with myself went:

“Should we skip today?”
“No.”
“But we’re absolutely still exhausted.”
“It’ll be good for me.”
“But you’ll be back to your 5 miles in 2 weeks. And we’re EXHAUSTED.”
“I’ll stress if I don’t go. And I’ll feel better.”
“But-“
“Ok. Let’s go.”

Should I have let my body rest one more day? Perhaps. But I am thankful I rallied to join Hattie, Claire, Grace S., and Bella on our run on our new route, which I have to say I prefer. It was a beautiful morning and I know that my mind will thank me for going later.

We enjoyed another wonderful breakfast prepared with so much love by Sierra, Lauren, and Grace E., which included my favorite food in the whole world, avocado toast (I’m surprised I didn’t eat all of the guacamole last night) and delicious granola cookies that have been crafted on the duration of this trip, a recipe I’ll be bringing home. Shortly after, our health team headed for their day-long excursion to the remote village of Kalondola, the education team to their respective schools, and my Business and Leadership friends and I prepared for our class today.

Today’s class was certainly interesting as our topic was Women In Business. As a class, there are more male students than female students, so it was interesting how most of the discussion was driven by the men. Megan, Bella, Kendall, and I kicked off class by describing important women leaders in our lives. I started by describing my karate sensei, one of the most powerful women I’ve ever met, and someone who has been incredibly influential in my life and how I’ve grown as a person. We continued, and members from the class also shared. The class grew lively, in the words of our student Hendrix, when we moved on to our discussion questions. As we asked our students about gender roles in Zambezi, the group erupted into a passionate conversation about why women work or remain in the home. While I expected coming in that gender roles would be very different from those I am used to in the States, it was definitely a different experience to hear from those who experience these gender roles themselves. There was much to consider, but I’ll leave with something one of our students said that I appreciated: “Anything a man can do, a woman could do better.”

We made a quick market stop before lunch, where we deeply missed the presence of our health team and Kris. I achieved a big accomplishment after: I finished the 751 page book that I started when we initially left the US! Thank goodness. I’ll be moving on to a book entitled Confess, which my mom raves about.

Later, Jeff informed us that we would be taking a ride on an ox cart to the river at 2:30. It wasn’t until 3:34 when we concluded that there probably would be no ox cart. But this didn’t stop us! On Monday and Wednesday evenings, we go to Zamcity, a program run by our good friend Debby that introduces sports to kids. With the white pickup truck—that has definitely seen some things, iykyk—in Kalondola, we opted to canoe down the Zambezi near where Zamcity takes place. Joined by Mama Katendi, Jeff, Kylie, Hattie, Bella, Megan, and Lauren, we tried our best not to tip the small, narrow canoe. I was screaming on the inside the entire time.

At Zamcity, we threw around a frisbee with some of the kids, who clearly have been practicing since our last match, then Debby had us “warm up.” Little did we know that “warming up” was playing lions and children (?), a game equivalent to sharks and minnows. With Jeff as the first lion, he called to us, “children, come over!”

“We’re scared!”

“Why?”

“Because of the lion!”

“The lion is dead!”

Commence the running. While this “warm up” could have easily worn us out, our spirits were high as we transitioned into another game of ultimate frisbee. I am proud to say that my team—Team Girl Power + Jeff and David—won with a close score of 9-1. I even scored once. Hooray!

Members of the health team intercepted us at the field after a long and interesting day. While some drove home in the tough as nails pickup, a few of us walked back to our cozy convent, meeting our other friends with love and joy and excitement to see each other after the day’s events.

Today was a brighter day compared to the last three for me. In an ideal world, we leave our struggles from home when we travel. But sometimes they end up in our suitcase, anyway. I’ve done so much reflecting over the last few days, and I put pressure on myself to forget it all, to not let it interfere with my incredible experiences here in Zambezi. But these struggles are not something you can just shut off, even when you know you’re in a position of great opportunity. As a chronic over-thinker, I’ve reflected a lot and as we played Lion, the silly little dialogue struck me. We are called to cross—to safety, to prosperity, to a new place—but we say we are scared. Scared of the things we carry getting in the way. “But the lion is dead”—we try to forget about it, but we simply can’t. But we run anyway. Despite the tough things we might be carrying and the potential risk along the path, we still choose to take the run, making the journey to a new spot in life. Yes, we have to navigate these struggles, but with enough resilience, we don’t let the baggage prevent us from running into a future that has so much potential.

Woo. Okay, enough contemplating life. For those I love at home, I miss you all so much and look forward to seeing you. Yes, I’m staying safe. Yes, I’m wearing sunscreen. And most definitely, yes, I think I’m growing. Dios vaya contigo.

Best,
Dee Leyba, ‘24

Hello again to all my bloggers. I’ve missed you! Grace S. and I just went for a delicious morning run. Taking advantage of the cool air and cloudy skies, we followed the same route that Jeff showed us yesterday. (Maybe I should keep that part a secret because we didn’t know if we could go that way alone) (sorry Jeff). I would like to take this moment to acknowledge the elephant in the room, or should I say the CREATURES in the ROOMS! In the past two days I have counted three cockroaches, one frog, one lizard, and more mosquitos than countable traverse the ground and walls of Grace S.’s and my room. I think there may have been a public service announcement made to all wildlife that Noah’s Ark was soon arriving in our room.

“They always come in twos” (Grace Sikes). How prophetic and slightly terrifying.

After a quick breakfast at the convent we packed up to head to Dipalata. Kris suggested we make some peanut butter and jelly sammies for the trip (genius status). While making these sandwiches, I felt just like Goldie Hawn in Overboard (post memory loss) when she is making school lunch for her newfound children (they are not actually her kids, if you haven’t seen the movie). I just wish I had that silly banjo tune playing in the background of my sack lunch making moment. We set off in two cars, one commandeered by Jeff and the other by Father John. The ride was “forty minutes long.” Two hours and a bumpy, swervy ride in the sand later, we were at the church. Father John may have had a secret aspiration to be a Nascar driver that was uncovered on our racecar drive (in a Land Cruiser).

Upon arrival, there was a crowd of children that followed us down the road. Apparently, the community was not expecting us until evening, and so our morning arrival was quite the surprise. The hospitality is off the charts, and quickly members of the Dipalata community were rushing around us to prepare our space and gather people for the small classes we planned on teaching on health and leadership. We scarfed down the pb and js and immediately went to play with the children as the adults scrambled to accommodate us. The thought of this does make me a little uncomfortable, as we showed up way earlier than expected and threw off their day. Despite this surprise, community members were coming up to us and hugging us, celebrating our arrival anyways. Kris, Megan, and Hattie began demonstrating how to chase bubbles, and the children immediately joined, crowded around these ladies and the two small bottles of bubble soap we brought. I tried to read a book to a few kids but they immediately ran away from me. I don’t have the same charm as some of the other girls yet. However, beautiful Maddie expertly began giving a music lesson to the kids using small Easter eggs filled with sand that sounded like maracas. Our future music teacher is already a star. Jeff began pelting small children with a ball, he called it a game, I called it unleashing his anger that the kids were jumping on the truck while he was driving. To my surprise, the children seemed to enjoy this game[editorial insertion by Jeff: “It’s actually a game! Similar to dodgeball. And I am the champion.”]. I still have oh-so-much to learn about Zambia.

Lunch was prepared for us while we played with the children. A game of “duck, duck, goose” was attempted and I would say the kids had fun, even if I couldn’t quite call what they were doing “duck, duck, goose.” Some kids had a woven string circle that they were doing a magic trick with, where they stuck their hand into the circle and then with some fancy twist of their arm, pulled down and were free of the string. I watched a few times and a boy handed it off to me. My time to shine! Just kidding. Rather than a round of applause I got a cacophony of laughter as I became messily intertwined with the string. Eventually I got it, but not without the kids physically leading my hand through the trick.

After a plentiful lunch of nshima, chicken, oranges, potatoes, avocado, and bananas, Jeff announced that we needed to prepare for our group presentations that the health and business leadership teams had planned. Turns out he was giving us a much needed break from the children after a long morning. We were all grateful for this short dose of rest, and relaxed on the floor of our sleeping quarters. Our classes went fairly smoothly, with Mama Katendi and Mama Josephine translating for both teams. Unfortunately, some of the topics discussed were a little controversial in reaction. You know that anxiety we’ve all had before a presentation, that lingering irrational fear that everyone will laugh at you? The sexual health and STI portion of our lesson was this fear incarnate. The women were hiding their faces from the men and laughing, the men were staring at the women, all while we were awkwardly trying to explain what certain symptoms might mean. While I felt embarrassed and frustrated at the adults not taking this seriously, I also had to take a moment to see it from their side. These topics are not commonly discussed in rural areas, and they probably felt just as awkward as us. However, Mama Katendi later said they were interested but embarrassed to discuss such topics in front of the opposite sex. Other topics gained more positive traction, such as nutrition, the Heimlich maneuver, heat stroke, and wound care.

As the sun began to set, we set up our beds in a small building next to the church. Sleepover parYAY! I was lucky enough to lay my sleep sack between Kris and Kylie. We then congregated for a yummy dinner by headlamp light.

After dinner the local Dipalata choir joined us for a bonfire. This felt like the first time we’ve done something with the community around us, not just in it. Clustered together, we sang songs that Mama Josephine taught us in preparation for Dipalata. When our “Choir Mistress” Kendall led us in Twaya Mwanta we realized that our pronunciation needed some work after the crowd started laughing. Mama Josephine twirled around the campfire, pulling up members of the choir to dance. I could feel the beat of the drum thumping in my chest, and the hum of the guitar pulsing in my fingertips. We all tucked into bed around 10pm and fell right asleep after a full day.

We woke up to the Mamas boisterously chatting and taking calls at 7:30am. Phone calls wait for no Mama. Breakfast consisted of yams, fruit, and potatoes. I’m beginning to notice a theme. It was smashing. The church bell rang soon after and we packed into the Saint Clera Catholic Church in Dipalata. A lovely older woman named Anastasia came and sat next to me for the beginning of mass. When the choir sang she loved to do a yowl that went sort sort of like “LELLELELELEHELELELE” to show her support for the singers. Kylie liked it so much she joined too, right in my left ear! Love you Kylie. Anastasia also translated for me when a man announced some instruction before mass. She said he was telling parents to “get their kids to shut up.” Mass went on for a Zambian thirty minutes, so three hours. It was beautiful though, and the singing never fails to make me believe in magic. We packed up and had our last lunch in Dipalata. The community was very welcoming and I’m thankful for the experience.

After driving an hour to Chinyingi we arrived at the legendary bridge across the Zambezi River, the one that headlines most advertisements for this program. Father John instructed us to keep our eyes forward and to not look down. It was a little spooky but felt secure. Once we crossed, he showed us the missionary hospital and his home. Chinyingi was very beautiful and extremely quiet. Ghost town vibes. Father John told us that the bridge was built in 1974 by a priest. Not an engineer. He was careful to add that the bridge was built on “prayer and meditation” before we crossed back over it. Let’s just say I was calling upon my own prayers and meditation on the way back after realizing that the bridge may not be as sturdy as we presumed.

Exploring Dipalata and Chinyingi led me to reconsider my expectations on what “rural” looks like here in Zambia. When we first embarked on our plane ride from Livingstone to Zambezi I think I was subconsciously expecting a significant decline in resources, education, healthcare, and connection to the outer world. I was dead wrong. The majority of people I see in Zambezi have cell phones and there is reliable service, most of the technology that we have readily available to us in America is also available here. Speakers, AirPods, tvs, phones, etc. Children and adults alike are fluent in multiple languages, mainly Luvale, Lunda, and English. Healthcare is freely available to the public and routine vaccines are commonplace to anyone that can make their way to hospitals. Zambezians are often more knowledgeable about American politics than I am. And even more so on Zambian politics. Zambezi is really only rural by location. On our way to Dipalata and Chinyingi we were told these places would be the most remote experiences of the trip. Father John’s house had a huge living room where two children lounged around watching a tv show they like to follow. The real eye opener in Dipalata was the difference in language priority. It seemed Lunda was the number one language taught to children and this made it slightly difficult to converse with the community. That being said, I wasn’t dismayed that a lot of people didn’t speak English. I was able to use my charade skills to talk back and forth with the kids, and they taught me a lot of phrases in Lunda. I respect that the original languages are still so alive within these communities, and English hasn’t dominated. We are lucky to be able to easily communicate with Zambezians, but this is an accommodation for English people and I often hear more Luvale or Lunda than anything in conversations that don’t involve Americans.

We drove back from Chinyingi and finally we were home. This trip felt like the longest one yet. Hattie, Grace S., and I immediately threw on the running shoes and pounded out a quick mile before it got too dark. Then Grace S and I played electrician while we switched out our broken lightbulb. Our room is so lit now!! I’m going to end my very long-winded blog post here. I love and miss my family and friends!!

With Love,

Clare Cibula, ’24