I'm not sure how my fellow Zags-in-Zambezi travelers feel, but I know I learned more about myself in Zambezi than I would have ever thought. I think of Zambia every day of my life. Whenever I feel exceptionally busy, or feel like a chicken running around with my head cut off (which actually happens if you were wondering...ha ha!), I think of Zambezi. Whenever I'm running late (which is rare), I think of our concept of time and how different it is from the Zambian concept of time. Whenever I want to honk at someone who cut me off or glare at someone in the grocery store for taking up the whole aisle, I think of how much kindness and respect complete strangers in Zambia showed me and smile.
My "something that I miss" is Zambezi. The list of things I miss could go on all day, so I will only stick to a few things.
I miss chetengues.
I miss journaling by headlamp-light.
I miss walking to the river for sunset.
I miss Davies.
I miss my computer students, who showed up early for lessons and would stay as long as we would let them after class to continue learning and to have access to the technology they so strongly desire.
I miss power outages.
I miss professor and reflection time, where each day we would learn something new from our peers and then reflect on our days/experiences/friendships/difficulties.
I miss being so frustrated with the portrayal of Americans, because assumptions about the United States as a whole are very skewed.
I miss eating bananas for a majority of the meals.
I miss holding hands with so many children.
I miss the children's excitement for books and learning (as opposed to cell phones, Twitter, Facebook, Instragram, etc. in the U.S.).
I miss reading the comments from home (and sometimes crying over them, because sometimes we forget the kind of support we have).
I miss Mudondo more than anything else in this world. And Nancy. And Daniel, who took pictures on my camera for a majority of the trip, and I have him to thank for many of the wonderful photographs I have now.
I miss being called "MEGA" instead of "Megan."
I miss sunrises.
I miss water pumping parties, where two or three of us would take turns pumping our water clean through these little tiny pumps that were a pain in the ass. I appreciated every sip of water, especially after being sort of stranded in Dipalata with no water pump and no water... which meant we drank sterilized dirt water from a well. Literally, it was dirt and water and we drank it and it was delicious..
I miss playing volleyball and basketball and spending so much time outside with the children.
I miss traveling by dugout tree canoes across the river.
And, perhaps most of all, I miss the simplicity of our lives there. It was such a blessing to take a step back from having to do all of the (mostly) meaningless stuff that occupies a lot of our time at home, while focusing on maintaining lasting relationships with the people of Zambezi. I am continually reminded about the bonds I made when I hear from my Zambian friends via Facebook.
Those are just a "few" of the things I miss from Zambezi. And although it is hard to describe, I am a better person because of all the experiences I had in that community. We all struggled. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't easy in any sense, and it wasn't all beautiful, but in the end, it was so worthwhile. I discovered a love worth fighting for, and that in itself is a beautiful thing.
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