Brendan and Jason were invited to the home of a classmate of Brendan’s. Nikhil is a Zambian of Indian descent. I had a lovely chat with his mother, Divja, who has lived in Zambia all her life. She went to the UK for her education and then returned to Zambia. She had an arranged marriage which she says has turned out quite well. I learned a lot about Hinduism and what she believes. She is a warm person and it was easy to chat with her. Our boys and the friendships they are forming open up whole new worlds for me.
Peter invited his seven peace participants to our house in the evening for a bit of an open house. They all marched in promptly at 7:00 and were delighted to meet our boys. With the exception of one young man, the rest of the students are married and have children. But they said goodbye to their families for ten months, leaving them in Kenya, Rwanda, Malawi, and other parts of Zambia. They were amazed that Peter and I have only been apart for three weeks and that felt long to us. It was an interesting evening, getting to know them a bit and seeing the relational dynamics in the group. One man started a bit of an argument with another student, both strong personalities, and we it was a bit uncomfortable. He later said he was just trying to “stir up a bit of conflict” but who knows what all is going on. About an hour into the open house, a few of the participants got up and began clearing away all the food and telling me I should put it away. Peter was getting interrogated by one of the dominant students about how he was “coping” in Zambia when another student interrupted and asked someone to close in prayer. Then they all marched out the door and that was the end. I felt a bit like the evening was hijacked but it served its purpose and that was for the boys and I to meet the participants and begin to get to know them a bit.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Peter’s colleague, Ignatius, had an unexpected death in his family this week. His mother, in her 50s, was quite healthy despite high blood pressure which seems to ail many people here. She was hurrying home to avoid being caught in the rain and she suffered a heart attack and died. Peter attended the funeral today which was a new experience for him. He learned a few things, like everyone dresses down for funerals so he was a bit out of place in a dress shirt and tie. There is a lot of waiting around – for transport to come, for the family to arrive, for everyone to greet the family, for transport to return you home, etc. Peter was amazed at how many ceremonies were taking place at the cemetery outside of town. I guess he shouldn’t be given how many people are infected with HIV/AIDS but when you see the large number of open graves in just one day, it hits home.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Yesterday morning Peggy showed up for work half an hour late and said that she has had malaria since last Monday but has not gone to the clinic to get medicine. She said she had no power to work today but I told her that we will have a houseful of people for Easter and I was hoping the house would be cleaned. She agreed to clean the bathrooms and sweep the main rooms which took only 45 minutes instead of the regular three hours she is supposed to work. The boys and I drove her back to her home in the neighboring compound of Chimwemwe. We delivered the items: a huge bag of mealie-meal, 5 kg of beans, cooking oil, a chicken, a bag of sugar, and a mosquito net. We were invited into their humble home and I met Peggy’s grandmother, auntie, “small” auntie, and cousins. I also met a few neighbors who came by to greet the muzungu. In their small house, there are four rooms. The sitting room has a very uncomfortable sofa, a TV, DVD player, and a small freezer. In one room sleeps the two aunties, sharing a bed. In the second room, Esther, Peggy, and the grandmother share a bed. In the kitchen, there is another bed where the three adolescent boys sleep. Out back there is a toilet and shower. They served us juice and one of the aunties who drums at kitchen parties, showed Brendan how to drum. When it was time to take our leave, Peggy wanted to ride in our car to the main road to make sure we could find our way out. There was no need since it was straight up one road and then a left turn and since Peggy was sick, I didn’t want her to have to walk back. She insisted on coming along and when we got to the road, she asked for taxi money so she wouldn’t have to walk back. I was a bit perturbed by this and offered to give her an advance on her monthly pay if she needed money. She also asked for money for malaria medicine, things she needed to buy for Esther for school and so on. I again offered her an advance on her paycheck if she was short on cash. She didn’t want to do this but wanted the money anyway. I reminded her that she was going to be babysitting for me in two weeks when I am facilitating a workshop so she would be getting a bit more money this month. She ended up taking an advance and walking home. Then, on my drive home, my cell phone was ringing but I ignored it because it is hard enough to drive here and I can’t do both (plus it is illegal). When I got home, the phone rang again, from Peggy’s aunt once more. I tried to answer it but she hung up, which means she wants me to use my talk time instead of hers. This is a pet peeve of mine but what can you do? I called her back and she wanted to talk to Peggy but I told her Peggy was on her way home. A few minutes later, the aunt called again but of course, hung up when I answered. I was getting lunch ready for the boys so I let it go but she called again. I called her back and she told me that I had forgotten to give them the second bag of mealie-meal which was in my trunk. The second bag was for Emanuel so I told them it was for someone else so she hung up. It was a fair assumption, I guess.
Zambia is a culture of “asking.” I recognize this but it still wears me down. I guess I hoped that Peggy would refrain from asking for more on a day when she had already been given much. I know that she is grateful, although it isn’t communicated in the same way I am accustomed. I still struggle with what is the best way to “help” and sometimes feel manipulated. I know things are difficult but I am not the solution to all her financial difficulties. Somehow they all found a way to survive before I arrived in Zambia. Sometimes I feel that Peggy is playing me and making it seem like I am the only way. This could be my issue or hers, or a combination. But a few months ago, they had an astronomical electrical bill and their power was cut. She wanted me to pay the equivalent of $500 to get it reinstalled. I refused. But the television was on all morning so somehow they got power again and it wasn’t dependent on me.
In contrast to my experience with Peggy, we took the same gift to Emanuel’s family in a shanty compound called Racecourse (named after the racecourse located there during colonial times). Racecourse is one of the poorest areas around Kitwe and it is a huge compound. Only a handful of homes have electricity and there is no running water. There are a few boreholes where residents get their water. Emanuel took us to his home which he built himself out of mud bricks. He lives with his wife and six children in this small, dark home. His wife and daughter cook outside on charcoal, as there is no kitchen. Emanuel and his family were lovely and gracious and absolutely clueless as to how to relate to us muzungus. Perhaps we were the first white people they had ever met. I was struck by how much less they had than Peggy and yet they didn’t ask for more. It must be so hard to be poor and see what others have that you will never have. And yet, there are some, like Emanuel, who are gracious and caring and teach me to be both generous and content.
Easter Sunday, March 23, 2008
Reverend Carmen blessed us with giving the sermon at St. Andrews this morning, and I tell you, that was the only bright spot in the whole service. Her message spoke to me because this was the most dismal and depressing Easter service I have ever attended. Carmen talked about Mary looking for Jesus in the tomb and being disappointed that she didn’t meet God where he was expected to be found. The tomb was the most logical place to look for Jesus and yet he wasn’t there. But God came in an unexpected way and in an unexpected place. I too was disappointed and had difficulty finding God in the most logical place, at church. This could just be my failure to rise above really annoying things like a keyboard that is way too loud and not in the same key as the singers and singing the same three hymns that we sing every Sunday. I was hoping for one Easter song but we relied on “Trust and Obey” and “How Great Thou Art” once again. I was praying very hard that Zesco would cut power this morning but my prayers weren’t answered. Some of the things that I loved about this church when we first started have disappeared – the spontaneous worship, the communal nature of people leading from their seats, the Bemba songs – those things have been swallowed up by a sound system that has taken priority. It drives me crazy! It made me homesick for PMC and Sarka Valley where worship seemed more thoughtful, aware of the liturgical year, and creative. Worship here is like the Zambian cuisine – there is a main staple, nshima, and a few different relishes, but that is what you eat. No variety, not much nutritional value. But variety in cuisine and worship is a luxury. Meat, vegetables and fruit are expensive. Songbooks and Sunday School curriculum are expensive. So you make do with what you have but I am not used to this and long for variety and creativity in worship.
Following the service, we had an international Easter potluck. There were sixteen of us with people from India, Canada, Switzerland, Norway, and the UK. We had an Easter Egg Hunt for the four kids and it was fun for the adults to watch them search high and low. Earlier in the week, in anticipation of a lack of Easter songs at church, I made copies of a few traditional Easter songs. After the hunt, we had an Easter sing-along. The others in the group were thrilled for the opportunity to sing some of our favorites like “This Joyful Eastertide” and “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” It finally felt like Easter.
This is our little friend Yobel and he is exactly how he looks in this picture. He is one of the most chipper little boys I know!Monday, March 24, 2008
This morning I was surprised by a knock on the door and an American woman standing on the porch. She asked if I was Cheryl Smith and said she had a package for me. She lives and works in Ndola and had a friend come to visit her from Scotland. The friend has a son who goes to school with Sasha, a friend of ours from IBTS in Prague. Sashka, bless his heart, bought a box of chocolates and two soccer jerseys for the boys and sent it along with his friend’s mother. Brendan and Jason love the jerseys and I will have to plead with them not to wear it for a day so that I can wash it occasionally! You are awesome, Sasha, and very resourceful!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Brendan has been battling sickness this week which has been hard on all of us. In the evenings, in particular, he spikes a fever. I took him to the clinic where he promptly vomited. He was tested for malaria but it came back negative. His tonsils were white and puffy so he got on antibiotics for that infection. By Saturday, he was adding headaches to the fever. In the middle of the night, he again threw up but he didn’t quite make it to the toilet so Peter and I had the fun job of cleaning up puke all over the bathroom floor and walls. By the time we made it back to bed, our stomachs were queasy and we couldn’t fall asleep. Which may have been just as well because an hour and a half later, Brendan was throwing up again and we didn’t have to rouse ourselves out of deep sleep twice in one night. (I’m trying to see the positive side of sleeplessness.) We went back to the clinic Saturday thinking it must be malaria but again, the test came back negative. After consulting with the doctor, we decided to give him the medicine for malaria anyway since all the symptoms point to this diagnosis and the tests aren’t always accurate. We hope that will help him recover. Brendan feels fine during the day and is not happy about staying indoors and resting, and he is sure to let me know that the only thing he is suffering from is my decision to keep him cooped up. Can you believe I am that cruel?
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