I got up at
6:45, which felt like sleeping in after our schedule for the past week. Jason
and I had a quick breakfast (the bananas in Zambia are amazing! Smaller than
those in the US, but sweeter and super fresh). We picked Paul up at 8am and
headed out to West Chelston, another town on the outskirts of Lusaka. There we
met with five women who are volunteers with the home-based care project. The
ladies gave me some great responses and were very open about their needs and
requests.
Me-What is your vision for expanding
home-based care over the next year?
Josephine- Our group needs some soap.
The women
are polite to the point of being shy. But…only to a point. They usually avoided
eye contact, and only some of the women wanted to speak up when I asked
questions. But during the interview we had a few instances where no translation
was needed and we all laughed.
At the end
of the interview I thanked them all for their service and said they would be in
my prayers. They all said they were thankful I was there, and asked me not to
forget their requests and please.
I will
indeed remember Josephine, Jenpha, Mary, Eunice and Inice. I hope they remember
me, too. I’ll never forget their faces and grateful gestures when I gave each
of them a pen from the University Bookstore. They had a ball pronouncing
“Wis-CON-sing” with me. I can’t imaging their faces if they ever actually
walked into the bookstore…or one of our hospitals.
There’s a
very important detail about this day. During the entire interview, we heard
women wailing outside. The pastor’s daughter had passed away the night before,
and the entire family, church and community were gathering for her funeral. She
was in her mid-twenties, and had been sick for a few weeks.
A funeral in Zambia is very tiring and
taxing on the family. In addition to dealing with the cultural norms and
traditions of funerals clashing with their religious beliefs, they also have to
feed and put up anyone who comes. That includes out-of-town family, to whom
word travels fast, community members, distant friends and long-lost relatives.
In some cases it can be comforting. But often, it’s a burden for these
families, who usually feed their families for 20,000 zmk ($5) each week.
The men prepare the burial plot, city
paperwork and the casket while the women mourn and wail and keep the guests
comfortable. The third day is usually the day of burial, once everyone has
gathered. A large procession on foot follows the casket. Men cover the casket
with dirt after people share prayers and final memories. The wailing continues until the entire crowd
gets back to the house. Then the crowd disperses and only the closest of kin
are left to deal with their recent loss—and expenses. Some relatives stay to
help the deceased’s family. The young woman who died had two children, who will
now live with the pastor and his wife.
We returned
to Lusaka around noon and had some lunch. I tried to email my family and Drew,
but the internet was still iffy.
I got to
talk to Sheila (Tonga) Chalimba, who is wonderful. So charismatic,
smart, kind. She lived in New York for 7 years working with the UN, and she
speaks 11 languages! And her English is great, so I could speak normally and
freely with her without having to worry about whether I was talking too fast.
That night I
made myself a yummy curried rice dinner with local tilapia and vegetables. And
I got to email Drew and hop on Facebook for a minute! That felt pretty weird,
but it was nice to connect. I started getting a little homesick in this very
foreign country. Usually when I’ve traveled I’ve been so busy that I didn’t
have time to miss home. But during my evening downtime in Zambia, I did.
I kept
thinking about how old my nephew Gavin would be when I’d get to see him next,
and hoped he’d like the present I got him in Mfuwe. At 2 months, I can’t see
him being too picky about anything :] I got him, Andy and Sara (my brother and
sister-in-law), Nicole and my parents gifts from Tribal Textiles, a local place
that uses cotton from the Southern province, local waxes and dyes, and
all-local labor that supports the nearby community. They make beautiful works
of art, from purses to wall hangings to carvings.
Miss you,
family!
