I’ll be honest I didn’t always love the fluffy, white goodness that is known in Zambia as nshima (pronounced; “sheema”). In fact I despised it the first two months we were here. The stuff, made out of corn meal and water, sits like a brick in your stomach after eating, and in some cases it makes you extremely tired. I’ve definitely had a nshima nap or two on this Race. It wasn’t until we came to the village of Mukumba, tucked away in the African bush, that I came to love it. Man, when that glorious dish is paired with beef stew and cabbage… mmmmhhhhmmmm! Get ready family; when I return I’m makin’ nshima!
Okay, enough about nshima; we have been in Mukumba for three days now, and as I said above, it’s situated in the bush. Like, the “bush” bush (bush). While wildlife is nowhere to be found, mud huts and holes dug in the ground for excrement are prevalent (the teams and I had to pull out the ole’ squats for this one). Expectations weren’t high for me being here. In my mind I wanted to get it over with and get back to the comforts of our team house. If I’m being totally honest, I wanted to just be back home; like “home” home. Well, the Lord blew my mind almost immediately.
June 9th, 2017 will forever go down as the best day on the World Race. I know I had a few others I deemed the best previously, but this one trumps the others. It all started with a cow ride to pumpkins. Ryan Griffin and I were challenged by the honorable, Paul Duesing, at “What Are the Odds” to climb on the backs of some passing cows pulling a cart. The cart was obviously being led by the owner, so Ryan and I were a little hesitant to commit. Our host overheard the challenge though and flat-out asked the man leading the majestic beasts if we could get a ride. The owner agreed, so Ryan and I walked slowly to the horned behemoths and prepared to mount them. “What are you doing?” shouted our host. “Get in the cart!”
Ryan looked at me and we both started to laugh. Of course, the cart. Who would let a couple of strangers hop on the backs of their cows. So we climbed into the dilapidated cart and rode it all the way to the owners home, which of course was a mud hut. I soon realized that it was no accident that were brought there.
The owner’s name was Precious, and he had a pretty good-sized family. No one spoke English very well, and of course Ryan and I have absolutely no knowledge of Tonga (a local language), so communication was done by drawing pictures in the sand, making hand motions, and pointing to things. We learned through our rudimentary communication techniques that the family were Christians, and that they farmed maize, pumpkin, and one other unidentifiable vegetable/fruit. We stayed at the home for a solid hour and a half and were served boiled pumpkin and purified (I hope) water in between games of soccer and hand tennis with the kids. Of course all the while everyone back at our camp were freaking out about our absence.
Once our time with the family had come to an end, we asked if we could pray for them. Precious and his wife apparently didn’t understand the hand motions, because they held our hands and prayed for us. Ryan and I were greatly blessed by their hospitality, and by their apparent faith in the midst of poverty. After the amen, Precious got his radio, flipped it to the station that plays hymns, and processed us back to the camp, with a few pumpkins, eggs, and tomatoes in tow.
It was a beautiful and random start to an even more beautiful day. Ministry and community were so fruitful that day, that if I were to write every experience down then I suppose this blog would be so long, you all would have stopped reading a long time ago.
Any who, our time here in the bush has been viewed by the teams present as a last hoorah of sorts, even though we have a week and a half of ministry left on this thing. It’s easy to adopt that mindset, since this is the last “exciting” ministry we’ll take part in, but we must fight on. We must eat up and appreciate every moment of the next week and a half. You want to hear something crazy? I’ll be sleeping in my own bed in less than three weeks.
