I prayed for this. I prayed for an authentic cultural experience and I’ve received it. This month, African reality slapped me in the face. It’s not easy, y’all.
When deciding on a World Race route, I strategically chose a warm option. If you know me, you know how much I hate being cold. I did research to ensure I would spend my year in sunny, warm climates. Surprise, surprise – I got what I asked for.
I’ll preface by noting Livingstone is great, its people are great and my team + my host family are great. We live in a big/beautiful home! But, still, life looks different this month and I’m having to shift my expectations and put on a new lens of thankfulness. I’m grateful His grace shines on me when my flesh wants to whine.
(My host family)
In Zambia, the government controls each household’s power use, meaning we only get approximately 10 hours of electricity each day (usually in the middle of the night). When the power is out, the water is also out. We use buckets of hose water for nearly every task – washing dishes, flushing toilets and taking showers. Not to mention, the tap water isn’t suitable for drinking, so we purchase several gallons of clean water each week to drink. I’ve gotten used to hot bucket showers and hot drinking water, both of which I desperately wish were cold.
The temps average 105 F daily and air conditioning is nonexistent, which leads to sleepless nights and constant sweat. (The government issued a heat advisory this week.) There is also an overabundance of hungry malaria-carrying mosquitos lurking each night. Plus, in our house, there are 21 mouths to feed each meal. (Cooking in the dark with one gas stove and a headlamp is so much fun!) We are also in the business of training a devilish puppy named Dante.
– We cuddle children with no parents at a local orphanage.
– We preform bible story skits for students who don’t have the funds to attend school without the help of a donor.
– We teach rural village women about Jesus in a one-room building with dirt floors and rickety desks, most of whom don’t have a single ink pen. (Thanks to my host family, these women now have their own bibles, reading glasses and writing utensils. Praise the Lord!)
– We drill wells (with no luck).
– We host youth conferences outside in the dirt with no shelter at a location formerly used as a junk yard dump site.
This month has introduced me to a plethora of heartbreaking realities associated with Zambian culture. This week was Zambia’s Independence Day. I so badly want this country and these people to experience true freedom – freedom of oppression, freedom to dream big, freedom to accomplish goals.
Pray for Zambia. Pray for my spirit and my body. Pray for all the individuals we interact with this month. Most of all, pray for a future of hope and change.
