WAY too long!

For all who were wondering, I have, in fact arrived safe and sound in Kalomo, Zambia. I am staying/ working in part with the Namwianga Mission in town, and am loving it! I have had some difficulty in accessing the blog up until now, but I shall attempt to summarize this past week, then will recap on the previous weeks in another post. One that will hopefully come tomorrow.

Sunday: walked to church and was greeted by an overwhelming amount of Zambians as what they call "mokulu" (white people). The Namwianga Church of Christ is made up of approximately 400 members, ranging in ages from 2 years to 60 years of age. There were no other mokulu aside from our HIZ-PATH group, and two resident missionaries, so we stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb, but it was great! The singing was unlike any other heard; though not on tune, it was without a doubt heartfelt. In fact, the song leader stopped the second song mid-verse to reprimand the congregation for "not singing as good as you can". Yep, that rarely happens in the States! Church was really interesting for me because we sang about the future hope we have in heaven, and I stopped short, realizing that while I am singing about the hope I have for my future, my grandma is actually singing with the angels for her first Sunday. Was I sad? Of course. But the sadness quickly gave way to indescribable joy in thinking that she began her forever last Wednesday. Even more so, I was raising my voice, as pitchy as it may be, with hundreds of other believers, all proclaiming the same Savior as Lord!

Monday-Friday: we walked the 1.55 miles each way to the Havens, trekking through tall grass, weaving between barbed wire fences, zigging and zagging over a dirt road, and dodging cow patties. During this time, my walking buddies (typically anywhere between 5 and 12 friends) reflected on the previous day, prepared for the coming sessions, or shared comedic stories to pass the time. Though we began our journey at 9 am each morning, I have developed an enviable t-shirt tan line! Upon arriving at the Haven, we are greeted by dozens of toddlers frolicking on the swing set on the front yard between the three Haven buildings. I then help gather the toddlers in my group, and head over to Haven 2 for singing, story time, potty breaks (preferably in the toilets), and other language-increasing activities. I have had to dive into the deep recesses of my brain to recover the supply of VBS songs to incorporate into the lessons, and I have decided that "My God is so big" is one of the faithful go-to songs. We also learned a few Tongan songs to sing to/with the kids, which is always precious! Once we finish with the toddlers and release them to their nshima (lunch) time, my 4 fellow grad students venture across the lawn to Haven 1 to partake in "tummy time" with the babies between 6 and 9 months of age. This is the least favorite time of the day because I am inevitably drawn to a baby named Peace, who is anything BUT peaceful. She appears to be all smiles initially, but as soon as I put her down on her belly, the floodgates open up and we lose at least 10 decibels of our hearing. I have found that making silly faces, blowing in her face, and essentially rubbing her back to put her to sleep have been most successful in calming her.

After tummy time we walk the 1.55 miles back to our compound to enjoy some Americanized cuisine (Ba Leonard, our cook, is AMAZING!), take a quick power nap, then walk or ride back in Khaki Jackie (the resident Land Rover) to the Haven for an afternoon with the kids. I was in the specialized group, so I worked one-on-one with a precious little dark but shiny faced boy named Kritz. He is predominantly non-verbal, has the fullest belly you've ever seen, exhibits a gurgly laugh, and has decided to make me his potty, but is adorable! Yes, I am now in the running for the most consecutive days to be pee-ed on by the little ones, coming in at 5 consecutive days. The aunties who work at the Haven have the most generous spirits, though, literally giving me the shetangies around their waist to wear while they wash my soiled clothes for me. On Friday, I decided to come prepared with a second change of clothes once a child relieved himself on me, but wouldn't you know it, I didn't need it. It figures.

Back to Kritz. We have worked on increasing any sort of vocalizations, and he has now consistently vocalized "up" (albeit crudely), and mimmicks words such as "zebra" and "lion", and roars in my face once I roar in his (this is in conjunction to a book, of course). He is very quiet for the first 20 minutes of our session, but then I feel my leg suddenly becoming warm and moist, so we waddle to the bathroom so I can change his clothes, and he inevitably becomes Mr. Chatterbox for the remainder of our time together. After that, I make my way over to Haven 3 to spend time with my first love, Kurt, a 22 month old boy with HIV. He may not say much, but we share an unspoken bond that needs no words. He simply cuddled in my lap for the first week together, but has since resorted to pointing to desired objects, waving to animate and inanimate objects outside, and playing with my fingernails. He's kinda my favorite! Without fail, he cries every time I leave, and I love him all the more for it.

The grad students all pile back into Khaki Jackie, or walk back along the dirt road, waving to everyone we see and butchering the little Tongan phrases we do know, arriving just in time for dinner. After dinner, I have ventured to the soccer (football) fields by the local college with some other HIZ-PATHers, to be thoroughly schooled. I have always known that I was never meant to be a soccer player, and these play times simply reiterate that fact. I run my little heart out, nonetheless.

So here I am, signing off WAY past my bed time, thankful to update you briefly on the events of the past week, wishing you all a delightful weekend. Thanks for reading!

Til next time.... Cari