Lusaka is a place filled with people.
This was evident as our bus pulled into the bus station and got stuck. Everyone, namely lots and lots of men, came away from their stalls and congregated in the street, watching as our bus and trailer struggled to make the left turn through the gate.
After revving the engine a great many times, the bus driver managed to get us through and we left the crowd in the street for a throng of people in the actual station. It was hard not to be overwhelmed with the amount of activity surrounding us.
Men were smacking the window and asking to be our taxi driver. Women were carrying their babies in shatangees. Merchants were walking around selling cell phone chargers and machetes. People in outfits of reds, yellows, blues and greens were everywhere.
The smell of chicken and mildew permeated the air as we gathered our belongings and were led to the car of our contact. We piled into the vehicle, which was parked close to some oozing dumpsters, and drove away.
As we approached the exit, a guard began to ask our contact for payment to leave. Another, very robust and excited, guard shook his head and said, “No, these are Obama people. Welcome Obama people!”
We had a good chuckle at this as we drove away, still not sure what to expect of Zambia.
It turns out, our time at the bus station was an excellent foreshadowing.
We soon realized that the term, muzungu (which means “white person”) would be our new titles for the month. And said title was shouted at us often. We were the muzungus and no matter how hard we tried to blend in, my team of six white girls stood out like Batman in a field of daisies.
We lived with a host family close to the center of Lusaka and this family was wonderful! They would feed us the Zambian staple food of sheema, which is a cooked corn meal that is very filling. It’s pretty common in Zambian culture to eat late at night and there were many instances where we would eat dinner with the family in our jammies.
Our host, Pastor Kebby and his Family.
Us and the Mama Juliette in the shatangee skirts she made us.
Throughout our month, my team and I did a lot of street evangelism, where we would share Jesus with people on the streets of a village. One time in particular, we were walking with a stream of children following us. I was holding hands with these kids, playing and giggling with them just as we were invited into somebody’s home.
It was a small house, yet we were offered a seat on a couch across from a grandmother. We shared why were were there and after sharing about who Jesus is, the people in the home said they wanted to pray and ask Him to be their savior. At this point, I hadn’t realized all the street kids had followed into the house and were sitting close to the door.
Suddenly, as the people in the home started praying to Jesus, I heard little voices echoing the words back. The children were praying too.
The community we lived in had a lot of children and we would play with them. A lot. I think I played more ring-around-the-rosy that month than I did in my whole life.
Beniah, our little neighbor.
Even though we may not have had any showers, sinks, laundry machines, wifi, ovens, stoves, refrigerators, freezers or running water the whole month…I am thankful for the time we were able to spend in Lusaka.
Oh and guess what? I even got to preach a few times!
Pastor Kebby is an excellent translator!
Thank you for your prayers!!
