Trip to Zambia - Jan 15 to Jan 31, 2007
Julie-Anne Savarit-Cosenza

Monday January 15 - When the pilot announces that we would be arriving in approximately twenty minutes, I look out the airplane window expecting to see a familiar terrain- dry, brown, dusty… right? Instead, I see a very different Zambia beneath me, one that is green and full of vegetation. The rivers and lakes, which once seemed empty, are starting to fill as the rains are becoming more frequent. It is an incredible sight and very pleasant surprise. My two previous trips took place in June and July, which is the winter season here. This is my first visit during the summer. I come to Zambia to do work for my non-profit organization, the African Education Program. Started by two other friends and myself in high school, our organization has already sent over ten thousands books and many computers to Kafue, a town located 27 miles south of the capital, Lusaka, where I stay. This past August, we opened a youth community centre, the Amos Youth Centre, in one of the poorest neighbourhoods of Kafue. In addition, through the centre we are sponsoring HIV/AIDS orphans and putting them in school. My mission this time is to evaluate how the centre is working. I also have to conduct interviews of the orphans whom we are sponsoring to get to know them so that their American sponsors, if they want, can correspond with the children whom they are funding. In addition, I will register and pay the school fees for the orphans. A lot to do in fifteen days - the plane continues descending, my mission is beginning. As the airplane lands, I see thick grass growing along the sides of the runway. Where had the brownish-red dust (which stains cloths) gone?

At least at the airport I am greeted with familiar faces. Otherwise I would have guessed that I had flown to the wrong country. My "Uncle" Alan, best friend Kasanda, and "brother" James all wait for me. The drive home seems familiar. The towns, certain big trees, and people walking along the street are all of the same, but I cannot get over how green everything looks. Another major difference has also hit me as well… the mosquitoes have started to bite. It is a good thing that I began taking my malaria pills. I will definitely have to remember to take them everyday. It is incredible how extremely this country changes between summer and winter. It is hot, very, very hot. No cool air, no cloudy overhang… just hot, boiling sun. Wait, does this mean that there are going to be big bugs this time of season too? I hope not. My Uncle Alan points out the rain clouds in the distance…he says that a big storm is arriving. I reach the house and am greeted by my whole "family" with big hugs and kisses. It feels so good to see everyone again.

Before I go to sleep, there is a HUGE (well I think that it is huge) spider on the wall in the living room. I scream and my Uncle Clarence asks me what is wrong. I point out the spider and ask him to do something about it. He tells me that the spiders are our friends because they eat the mosquitoes. As I subconsciously scratch my mosquito bites and realize what I am doing, I agree with him. But I still make him check my room for any spiders.

The rains have started for the night. I look outside and the lighting storm is a marvellous light show. I would watch all night but I have to go to sleep.

Tuesday January 16 - My first full day in Zambia is a recovery day from the long travelling- eleven hours from London to Johannesburg, a lay over, and then another two hours to Zambia. I walk to the local shopping centre with three-year-old James, carrying him most of the time. I love walking here and watching everyone who passes by. The streets are always full with people strolling. Everyone smiles as you pass them by.

Wednesday January 17 - Today is spent visiting some of the schools which the HIV/AIDS orphans whom we are sponsoring will attend. We find out what the exact tuition fees are and if they have places for our students, which is weird to me and my American mentality. But there is no guarantee that a student will have a place in the Public school. When outside, I can peer into the classrooms and watch the students. The classrooms have nothing, no bookshelves, no posters…just a blackboard covered in writing. Those students who catch me gazing in, smile at me. At one of the schools, the bell rings when I am outside. It is in an area where third and fourth graders are in class. As they exit the classroom, every single one of them wave at me and smile without fail. As I walk around, most children wave and laugh with excitement when I wave back.

After visiting the schools, we go to the Amos Youth centre. I have not been there since August, when we opened it but we did not see any activities taking place. It is unbelievable to see students sitting outside. I walk in and there are children reading books. I am filled with so much joy. I take a look at the books, memories of the late nights in Wayne spent packing them and the freezing adventures retrieving them rush back to me. A tear comes to my eye. I talk to one of the boys using the chemistry books. He explains how helpful it is for his homework. He says that his school does not even have books like this one. We do not have much time to stay, but this first encounter proves to be astonishing.

Thursday January 18 - When I arrive at the centre, I begin interviewing the HIV/AIDS orphans whom we will be sponsoring. They do not really understand who I am or why I am interviewing them. I like it better this way. Not a big fuss, just an informal conversation. I am amazed by some of the students who have trouble answering my questions. I speak slowly, but their English skills are below my expectations. It is interesting. I thought that they would all speak English correctly as the classes are supposed to be conducted in that language. I realize how much they need help. I am lucky to have met a little earlier a widow, Agnes, who is a part of Women on the Move (a group of widows who since the creation of the centre meets there twice a week). She helps me with the interviews by translating some of my questions. It is fascinating hearing each orphan answer the questions differently- each with a different creative twist. They are intelligent, without a doubt- the resources are what is missing, not the intellect. Each has a very unique personality, some are funny, other very serious, some shy and others very outgoing. I am intrigued and cannot wait to meet the rest of the orphans.

The pace of Zambian already seems to be in slow motion. We walk down the street…slowly. What should be a two-minute conversation takes about half an hour because you must discuss certain issues such as family and the weather before getting to business. It is what they call the "protocol". Fast food takes half an hour. Somebody says they will meet you at 2:00 PM, they do not arrive until 4:00 PM. From a western perspective, this can become very irritating and frustrating. I personally enjoy it…living life slowly. Which brings me to weekends in Zambia: the business week is already slow, but weekends are even more unhurried. They are meant for relaxation and rest. Work is not done on the weekends.

Saturday January 20 - It is Uncle Clarence and Auntie Elizabeth's birthday, so a big braai (a party/barbeque) is planned. We stay up late eating delicious dishes and dancing to music ranging anywhere from Celine Dion to Kamilion (one of Zambia biggest hip hop artists).

Sunday January 21 - I go to the local sports complex, ZamShore, to watch Arsenal defeat Manchester United. We are about fifty crowded around the TV. Fifty-fifty split right down the middle- passionate fans of both teams. There is not a minute of silence, half the time I do not understand what is being said because they are speaking in Bemba (one of the local dialects). Everyone seems impressed that I know the players myself and am so into the match.

Monday January 22 - We are early to rise, 7:00 AM (extremely early for me). Kasanda has kindly volunteered his time to take me to Kafue every day this week by minibus. It is my first time using the Zambian public transportation. As we leave the house, eyes half open, I think he is starting to regret having agreed to such an undertaking. We walk twenty minutes up hill to the closest minibus station that will take us to town. The minibus experience is….interesting…to say the least. The bus is supposed to fit eight to ten people, but they manage to squeeze about twenty of us inside. Half the time the door does not close properly and the driver is usually going at least twice the speed limit. The seats are rusty, the upholstery is nonexistent, and it smells like… twenty people are shoved into a bus that should fit eight. The driver has a little guy (literally little because half the time he squeezes in a corner of the bus so another passenger can get on) who constantly has his head out the window whistling at walkers to see if they are looking for a ride. The little guy is also the one who collects the money. He and the driver have a system of knocks to communicate when and where to stop. Amazingly, although they are sitting about two feet away from each other, I have never seen one of the little guys and the drivers communicate via spoken language.

We drive to downtown Lusaka to the Kulima Towers or City Market stops. This takes about half an hour and costs 4,000 Kwacha (less than a dollar) for the two of us. At these stops hundreds upon hundreds of minibuses are parked and waiting to be filled so that they can start off again. Thousands of people are all trying to find the right minibus while each and every minibus's "little guy" is yelling the destination of his bus. Kasanda grabs my hand to not lose me in the crowd. Minibuses try to drive through the crowd and hundreds of children and men are trying to sell little gadgets and candies. Once the bus is found, it is still a wait. It costs 12,000 Kwacha (less than 3 dollars) for the two of us to go from Lusaka to Kafue. The whole bus (twenty people) must be filled which could take up to an hour since our destination is somewhat remote. As we sit, the sellers pop their heads through the window offering bubble gum, jewellery, dresses, q-tips, towels, sports jerseys, anything imaginable. Finally, we are off. It is about an hour ride to Kafue, depending on how many stops are made along the way. Sandwiched as usual in the back of the bus, it always feels so nice when we see the big tree up ahead indicating our stop.

The little guy knocks and the bus stops. Kasanda and I are off on our five-minute walk on the dirt road to the centre. Finally we have arrived. Just as before, the centre is lined with students. The trip was worth it. We would take on the same journey back…and every day of the week to come… and the Monday and Tuesday of the next week.

I spend the day interviewing more of the orphans. Again I am amazed at some of the language skills. I sit outside with a group of students my age. They love to tell me jokes, one guy in particular. His nickname for the rest of the trip is Mr. Funny Man. He asks me, "Mr. B and A went to the market. Who went to the market?" I have no idea. "Mr. Banda of course!" And then he has another one. "A man goes to the market. What does he buy there?" Again I have no clue. "Mangoes! Duh!" All of them cannot stop laughing. I still do not understand the first joke, local humour I guess. In addition, they tell me that they will teach me to cook some local dishes and we argue about spots teams.

I also spend some time with the Women on the Move. They explain to me everything that they are doing to raise money. They make Cobra (wax to polish floors), Munkoyo (drink made with local plant roots), and Shikanda (local dish), which they sell at the market to raise money. Instead of splitting the money among the group members, they use it to help the community, either at funeral or sick homes. Since the Amos Youth Centre opened up, they use it as a meeting place. Many of them have children who regularly use the centre. They tell me that the centre helps keep them busy, as well as keeps them involved with their children's lives and education. They learn about HIV/AIDS awareness for themselves and for their children, and also benefit from the books that are available. They told me that a centre like this does not only help the children, but "benefits the whole community…"

Tuesday January 23 - We begin the task of trying to pay all of the school fees. I expect it to only take two days and hope that the rest of my time on this trip can be spent taking care of the books for the library. I am wrong. Remember what I said about everything being a little slower? It takes time. And we have return to certain schools several times to organize everything and make sure all is in order.

The whole week is spent going from school to school. I learn that at none of the schools do students go full time. They either attend in the morning or the afternoon because they do not have the room or teachers to have all students in class all day.

We eat lunch in the same lodge everyday. Although they have a full menu presented, only two dishes are available- Chicken and Chips (French fries) and Chicken and Nshima (kind of like grits). These are the basic Zambia foods. Anywhere you go…this is usually what you order. Although the food can get old after a while, the cold coke in a glass bottle never does. It always tastes as refreshing, especially in the extreme heat. The Zambian sun never seems to stop beating down.

Most of the kids at the centre do not actually know what I am doing there and my real connection to the centre itself. The few that do understand are speechlessly grateful. The few words they manage to utter are of pure thanks. Four in particular, four that have become good friends of mine, understand what is going on. Each is extremely bright. Each works unbelievably hard. Each has taken a special sense of pride at the centre and gives back.

Faith - She is 17 year old. I met Faith on my first day at the centre. She explained to me that she travels to Lusaka during the Holidays and coaches netball and volleyball at a tournament to make money for her school fees. This year the tournament was not held so she did not have the money for her fees. She helps with administrative business at the centre, registering new members. Her face lit up when she realized why I was there and what I was doing to do to help her. She has an essence about her…a true Zambian beauty.

Nahmo - Nahmo is a nineteen year old who is so full of life and joy. His smile is incredible. He paints and sells his artwork to raise money for his school fees and spends any minute he can in the centre using the books. In his interview, Nahmo was hilarious. We didn't stop laughing. On my last trip to the centre, Nahmo took me through Shikoswe, the neighbourhood where the centre is located and where he lives with his grandmother, to show me his paintings. He knew everybody we passed by. I asked him why and he said he likes to be friendly and just talk to people. So everyone knows him. He was at the school when I was paying his fees, spotted me, and made the connection. When I left for the last time, he gave me the biggest hug.

Kenneth - Every time I arrived at the centre, Kenneth was in there working, studying the books. Determined is probably the best adjective to describe Kenneth. He is without a doubt creating a better future for himself. When we started organizing the books, he was by our side the whole time. I even left him in charge of making sure the library would be soon completely organized. He appreciated the responsibility. Another big hug on the last day.

James - Modest to say the least. During our interview he was funny- another one who made me laugh the whole time. We talked about sports and school, but he did not explain his family situation. I learned after that when he had become an HIV/AIDS orphan he went to live with his brother. Unfortunately his brother also passed away last year of HIV/AIDS. So James is independent at 16, and does any work he can find to support himself. Often it is working in the fields in the morning and going to school in the afternoon. Despite all the hardship, he is always smiling and never complains. The pictures prove it.

I feel like I'm so privileged to know them and to call them my friends.

Saturday January 27 - After a very long week of running around from school to school…it is the weekend again. Slow down. Saturday night is another birthday party for an Uncle - Again a long night of food and dancing.

Sunday January 21 -I go to church with Uncle Kenneth for the 10 o'clock Mass. I do not understand much of the sermon because the majority of what is being said is in Bemba. All of sudden I am given a rose. Uncle Kenneth explains to me that it is because I am a visitor and it is a welcoming gift from the church. The choir sings amazingly. I could spend hours listening to then. Songs that sound familiar, but with an African twist. Their voices echo magnificently in the church. Afterwards Uncle Kenneth takes me to the orphanage where he volunteers and is also sponsoring a child. The orphanage is run by the Sisters of Charity, Mother Teresa's Order. Our organization has been helping the orphanage, donating books, clothes and blankets but it is the first time that I can personally visit it. This is one of the hardest moments in my life. We walk into the nursery where toddlers immediately stand in the cribs reaching out for attention. We pick some up…they smile, laugh, hug…you feel their craving for attention. A tear comes to my eye as one will not let go as I try to put her back down. She longs for love. They all long for love. It was so painful leaving that room, I could have stayed forever, just holding them. That was all they wanted…and something so simple makes them so happy. We then visit the women's and men's quarters. They sing songs to us and appreciate company even if most of them are on their deathbed, being the sickest of all and therefore having a bed in the free clinic. The toddlers loving grip cannot get out of my mind. I really hope to do more work there…even if it is just holding the babies. It puts life into perspective.

Monday and Tuesday January 29-30 - My trips to Kafue are bittersweet. It is so great to see our hard work showing results and helping people. At the same time it is so hard to say goodbye. We work on the books and hang out. Get to know each other more. I am fortunate enough to know that I will be back in June after a semester studying at the Cape Town University. I cannot wait.

Wednesday January 31 - I catch my plane at 1:00 PM. Like the two past times I am on the runway about to leave Lusaka…I cry. Tears steadily falling…something about this country intrigues me and has found a place deep in my heart. I cannot stand leaving these people who never stop smiling.