Long over due

You know those things that you put off for so long that its almost embarrassing to come back to? As time goes on and more things happen, the guiltier I begin to feel for not updating my friends, but the more I find yourself justifying why everyone can wait a little bit longer. And then November hits, I think its time I put a stop to this downward spiral of communication. In my defense, I DID write something at the end of October, I just never had the internet to post it. Can we have a little pity party for Rachel’s internet access out here? Anyways, here is what I wrote:

This month alone I have clocked almost 70 hours spent in cramped buses, cars and rickety pick-up trucks travelling what seems like all over the country. I have had the chance to learn from other people, see new things and develop new skills that will carry through the rest of my term here.

Its hard to sum up these experiences with general statements like “good” or “inspiring” because they have all changed me in vastly different ways. But I’ll try and explain some of the more memorable lessons ive had from this month.

To give you some background information, my job is unique in that it allows me to always be moving. We are in the process of expanding peace clubs into different provinces of Zambia, and because of that there is a high demand to be monitoring of peace clubs and training teachers, particulaily in the Southern Province. I am beginning to learn though that there is no structured formula to do peace work. Teaching peace happens in many forms… in conversations with strangers on the bus some idle Tuesday, in a formal setting in schools clubs, and with my friends and family back at home. We become messengers of peace only when we let it consume our lives.

Last month I had the opportunity to spread some peace during a visit to Meheba refugee camp in Northern Province...the largest refugee settlement in all of Africa. Unless you are some whiz on Zambian geography, Meheba is about a 15 hour drive from Lusaka, and we only spent ONE full day there. So a total of 30 hours were spent squished between my boss and our driver and although my long legs did not thank me for that, I would do it all again in a heart beat.  We spent the day distributing blankets to a section of the camp called the “aged and disabled” and handed out school kids to several orphans within the camp. I will hold up Meheba in my mind as an invaluable memory, with rich experiences and people that have shaped my perspectives on life and sharpened the reality of injustice. I came in as a journalist for MCC,  listening to stories of those I met and documenting it for the blanket makers and school kit providers to read about it at home. So instead of going into more detail, I think it would be better for me to post my article on this blog if you’d like to read about it more in depth.

To be honest, being back in Lusaka before I was ready lead to probably one of the worst days I’ve had since I’ve been here. I was so emotionally vulnerable from that trip because I had felt such a deep connection to that place. I desperately wanted more time to spend there.  This, combined with the knowledge that I was missing my first significant holiday of Thanksgiving highlighted a deep longing to be home. I was thankful I had the day off, although being at the house alone made me unable to hide or busy myself from sadness. Both me and my mom have become comfortable with the idea of “feeling emotions as they come”, and in that day I just needed to be feel homesickness, longing for family traditions, empathy for the stories I had heard in meheba, and bitterness towards being back in the city. As I uncover these emotions, it helps me to move forward and take these feelings to use them for good in the future. I realize now how hard special occasions and memorable events are going to be this year weather that be Christmas, birthdays, or the anniversary of my dads passing … but I’m learning how to accept that and move forward. I know that my bad days here do not define my entire term. Although I had a bad day, this month has still been the most memorable and joyfilled month I have had in a long time.

Because of slowly uncovering those emotions, I felt much more open and aware to my dads presence than ever before in the following week in Choma. Its hard to describe it without sounding like a total nut case, but in this grief came this intense longing to honor my dad in everything I am doing here. I felt more open to hearing his voice, and willing to remember the lessons he had taught me while growing up and finding ways to apply that to my work here.

I had a new energy to my day, and I suddenly felt so passionate about taking more risks. Issa told me that he finally saw me come alive in peace clubs that weekend, and I think I can agree with this statement too. Its funny how death can sometimes make you feel more alive, eh? I believe that there is never a right time to step out of your comfort zone, so I took this Choma teacher training as a time to explore what boundaries I could push for myself. I told Issa I wanted to cover a few lessons on my own, starting with our first one-on-one lesson with a man named Mr. Chindolo. I picked two lessons at random, and after some time to look over what I would be teaching I realized I had picked a lesson my dad had taught me from an early age and had taught in his students of a picture of an old man/young lady depending on how you look at it . I was blessed to have the chance to carry on his lesson in a completely different setting, and was blown away that I would get to teach on a picture that I had grown up with.

So that was the first half of my month…kind of intense I suppose. I was thankful for those memories, but by that point I was also so ready to just put work and family issues aside for a little and have mindless, reckless fun again. I think myself and the other SALTers really began to understand the need for “worker renewal”, and we really took advantage of that during camping, in the village, and our final weekend together in Livingstone.

Learning to be a real African woman!

Wildlife at Kafue Game Park!

I found that I didn’t even have that much to write about in my journal in those weeks, because I started to just grow tired of reflecting and analyzing my life at all times. Instead I just appreciated having the opportunity to just be a normal, Canadian teenager again. It was only in our getaway weekend in Livingstone that I think all of us SALTers realized how much we’ve actually changed. These past 3 months you almost need to put aside your past life in order to fully invest yourself in a new one, but it gets tiring to be almost walking on egg shells all the time, so aware that every move you make is being watched and categorized as culturally appropriate or not. Things like getting ready with friends to go out to a nice dinner or just lounging by a pool became like these luxurious gifts. Its crazy that just 3 months ago that used to be my everyday life! I love my job and my host family, but I think we all realized how important it is to let ourselves be “us”. I had the chance to bond with these girls on a whole different level this weekend, and we all agreed to make more of an effort to be a strong support for eachother as the year continues, and to create more opportunities to have fun.

Alright that is my recap of October. Im looking forward slowing things down a bit in November before our Christmas retreat in December!