Internet service here in Zambia is somewhat limited so we will be posting text only for a while. The pictures will just have to wait.
Thursday, August 21
Leaving for Zambia
Tim took us to an amazing little restaurant "The Coffee Station" for an excellent breakfast and we headed towards JFK with Tim, who knows the route quite well, doing the driving. After missing just one turn we arrived at the address for “Airport One”, where we (thought) we had made parking arrangements. It was a very seedy neighborhood and after driving around for a while and even inquiring of some locals who told us where it was, we were unable to locate it. A phone call to the establishment netted only an answering machine. We were having some pretty bad feelings about this so we agreed to drive to the airport long-term parking which we did without incident.
Friday, August 22
The transition from Thursday to Friday is quite fuzzy in my mind, but somewhere over the Atlantic it happened. As morning approached the captain requested that windows be closed and the plane was darkened and we remained in “sleep” mode until a dinner was served. It was all rather surreal. Transition in Johannesburg went well and we arrived in Lusaka right on time. Our journey through immigration was a breeze and in no time at all we connected with our driver from Pioneer Camp, Alfred who made us welcome as we drove through the African night to the lodge. As we settled in, we discovered that one bag was still back at the airport. Our host, Paul, was gracious and helpful and made arrangements to have the suitcase picked up by a taxi and brought to Pioneer the next morning.
Saturday, August 23 - A Day to Remember
Tim was up early taking pictures and by 7:00 we all gathered for a breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon and baked beans. Details about our suitcase are becoming confused. At 7:30 Paul calls Max, the taxi driver, who had agreed to get it. He is at the airport but hasn’t yet been able to connect with the right person there. This whole scenario has a wild card because the body of President Mwanawasa is due to arrive at 9:00 and roads may be blocked by police or jammed by mourners. Hopefully Max will be able to get the suitcase and get out of the airport before any roads are closed (or jammed).
Our 8:00 AM planned departure time for Manda Hill Shopping Center, comes and goes and still no word from the airport. I offer the possibility of meeting Max on the way so he doesn’t have to drive all the way to Pioneer. This is taken under consideration and Alfred suggests that we actually go to the airport and get the bag. I have to trust their best judgement in this situation but I’m a bit skeptical about us getting caught up in road closures or traffic and complicating our planned hook up with Esther at 10:00 (By this time we know we aren’t going to be at Manda Hill by 9:00 as planned and some of our shopping activities there will need to be curtailed). So off we go and surprisingly the way to the airport is clear although hundreds of people are lining the road (which we had observed being decorated the night before on our way out of the airport with national flags, pennants and ribbons). Some are holding Zambia flags, others expressions of tribute or sorrow. Military police are present but not in large numbers, not visibly getting involved but apparently just being alert to any problems. Some groups of people are singing, others are weeping. We observe the French presidential jet accompanied by military aircraft make its landing. It’s a somber journey, heightened by our anxiety about our luggage, concern about our connecting with Esther and by just being present at this significant moment in Zambia’s history.
We arrive at the airport, I go off with Alfred to try to locate Max and hopefully our luggage. By this time, the Air France plane has landed. We find practicaly no one at office stations in the airport because everyone has gone out to the tarmac (runway) to be present for the arrival of the president’s body. So we walk around the outside of the terminal building - no security whatsover - and join the crowd of thousands watching as the casket is removed from the aircraft and cermonially carried to the carriage as the band plays the national anthem and “Rock of Ages,” a 21-gun salute given and three military jets fly past in tribute. There are people in trees, military regiments in formation on the tarmac, groups of women wailing and other groups singing. Everyone is transfixed by the weight of this event but all is being done very decently and in order. As the crowd breaks up, we connect with Max (no luggage yet) and go off to the South African Airways office which is still locked. We agree that I should go back to the car with the family while Max and Alfred try to locate an SAA representative. But before I leave them, I asked to use Alfred’s phone to try to contact Esther since it’s almost 10:00, our connecting time. At just that moment his phone rings and here it’s Esther calling. We are able to let her know where we’re at, and what our plans are and we’re both quite relieved to know where things stand. During this time Tim is out taking pictures. Another 40 minutes or so passes as we watch with horror the huge traffic flow moving out from the airport on the only road to Lusaka. But at least is is moving. Finally Alfred calls me over and here’s Max with the suitcase. Thank you Lord! We learn afterwards from several people that we were quite fortunate to able to get the bag. We pay Max for his time and trouble, get in the car and join the traffic line. Alfred is amazed at the volume and slow pace of the traffic. We assure him that this is no worse than the Schuylkill Expressway at rush hour and that’s 6 lanes across. He is speechless. On the way out of the airport we make another call to Esther to let her know we are on our way. We continue to pass by hundreds of people still lingering, talking, singing, standing in silence. Some wave at us as we pass by - partially because Tim and Sara had accepted a paper Zambian flag from one of the mourners at the airport and had it stuck on the side window. Plus, Tim was also taking lots of pictures which always gets a positive response when they see the camera and his friendly face.
We reach the “circle” and turn towards city-center where the traffic is no better and continues to be stop and go all the way to Manda Hill. Driving besides us for part of the way was a Zambian NBC vehicle with some of their top personalities inside whom Alfred identified for us. We arrived at Manda Hill and there was Esther standing just outside Vasili’s (café) who skillfully directed us to her vehicle where we unloaded our luggage, paid Alfred and sent him on his way with much thanks. Esther knew just what steps we needed to take next so Tim and I headed off to the money exchange and to get something for lunch while the ladies went to the Shoprite for groceries. In half an hour we were in the car and off to Sikalongo, driving through the busy streets of Lusaka, then through varied countryside, somewhat similar to the Southeast in the US and on to Sikalongo. Dennis Mweetwa met us and, as soon as we had stashed our bags, took us on a get-acquainted tour of the school including grandfather Myron Taylor’s grave and the Myron Taylor Memorial Bell Tower (which we agreed I would ring the following morning). I was not quite prepared for the wave of emotion that came over me as I stood in each of those places. I’m not sure how to describe the feelings but there was awe in being in this place of family and church significance and having a sense of what all has developed here as a result of Myron’s vision, dedication and sacrifice. There was humility in being able to be here and to have this heritage. There was grief for his death. There was gratitude for his life and his sacrifice - “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” John 12:24. And there was also a call to responsible stewardship of a signfificant legacy
We headed back to the guest house for a wonderful dinner which Esther had prepared then finished unpacking, getting ready for the morning and turned in, bringing to a close this day filled with historic significance for ourselves and for Zambia, plans once again being re-arranged, and wonderful provision for our needs, not the least of which was Esther as she served as a kind of a mid-wife bringing these babes into their new world. We slept soundly but needed to put on some extra blankets towards morning. Surprisingly chilly here in the mornings.
Sunday, August 24
Sikalongo
Tim once again was up before the rest of us and was out with his camera. It’s hard to believe that we used to pry him out of bed at the last minute. He has some special plans for putting something together for our trip and also for the people in Zambia with whom we’ve interacted. As we wrapped up breakfast I headed over to the bell tower and eventually was given the OK to ring it. It took a while to figure out how to pull in order to get it to ring somewhat systematically. A lady came up and after we greeted and she identified herself as “Esther” she said, “Let me show you how to ring the bell,” which she did with great enthusiasm.
The other Esther (Spurrier) took us on a tour of the clinic area and then headed off to church. A ladies group was singing as we entered (we thought it was rehearsal at first , but no, we were late!) We were graciously ushered (almost instructed!) into appropriate seats, men on one side and women on the other and Tim and I were placed right up front. The service was typically traditional BIC in form with traditional songs sung in Tonga. Dennis gave us his songbook and we tried to sing along. With the tunes being familiar and my previous exposure to Ndebele, I was able to enter in somewhat decently. We were warmly welcomed and introduced and the pastor made it a point to speak, particularly to the young people, about the commitment modelled by Myron Taylor. A segment of time was given to recognizing the death of President Mwanawasa, its potential implications for the nation and the church followed by several prayers. The message, by Rev. Justin Mushanga pastor at Kitwe BIC and formerly from Sikalongo, was from Matthew 4:1-4. After a long story about a time when he was really hungry and then became quite sick because of over-eating, he got down to the business of identifying why we eat (to do productive work, not just to be able to eat again), why we need to feed on the word of God and the practical difference that makes in how we live. Not just as a husband or wife or parent, etc., but as a Christian husband, wife, parent, etc. He then took significant time to dwell on the impact of Mwanawasa’s death, the transition of leadership and the role of the church through individual believers in setting the agenda for a national journey of integrity and justice. It was a patently non-partisan statement, and not even a call to political activity, but a rallying cry for the church to be the church and to bear the likeness of Jesus in society in the days to come. Excellent in all regards.
Church dismissed and we joined the welcoming line as we went outside. Each person greeted in turn those who had preceeded them and then took his/her place in line until everyone had left the church and greeted everyone else in this very warm and orderly fashion.
Back to the guest house for lunch and while we were eating, Pauline and Rosa came over to meet us. I believe Pauline and Darlene are going to have a wonderful time with the children. Darlene will be thoroughly in her element here. Rosa will be a joy to have in the house.
We left the house before 1:00 and Esther drove ‘till we were off the rougher back road
then I took a turn at the wheel driving the rest of the way to Choma to the gas station. It’s very much like being a student driver all over again - paying conscious attention to every detail and continually thinking “left side” and visualising what needs to be done ahead. Traffic is so light that it’s easy to become complacent about what’s in front and what’s behind. Of course there is always the frequent cyclist, cow or goat to navigate around and on the lesser roads, serious rutts and dips in the road.
We arrived at Nahumba around 3:00, met Marian and got situated in the guest house (very, very nice) while Esther, with Tim’s help, got her vehicle loaded up to head off to Macha which she was able to do ahead of schedule. Are we ever grateful to her, and how!
Afternoon tea with Marian and Ron and Erma Herr. Sharing life journeys. They are doing marvelous work here and have obviously become “incarnate” in this culture.
Dinner of rice topped with almonds, raisins, tomatoes, groundnut gravy, mixed vegetables, salad and a papaya/lemon desert beautifully and tastefully prepared by Marian. We took our time over dinner sharing stories then Tim and Sara left us to meet with some of the local youth at the Herr’s house. We continued to talk about Zambia needs and western church response and laid plans for the next days, including our departure on October 5/6 which Marian suggested be via the MCC guest house in Lusaka. She will work on arrangements.
When Tim and Sara returned we said our “Good-night’s” and headed back to the guest house where I spent an hour or so catching up on my journal.
We’ve been in anything but “relaxed” mode for over two weeks now - has it really been that long since the “Salmon” experience? They have been good and valuable weeks, but the pace is starting to catch up with us. Hopefully things will go well for us in the next days with Tim and Sara and then find a bit of respite as we get back to Sikalongo. We will need to plan for a couple days of doing not much before we get involved with the community there.
Monday, August 25
A wonderful breakfast served by our hostess Marian who then drove us to the bus stop, checked to make sure we had our tickets properly and then left us on our own. Our bus trip to Chantors Lodge in Livingstone was uneventful, scenic and, as had been promised, very rough in one stretch. We are ready to stop moving for a while and catch our breath. The past two weeks have been non-stop on the go and getting things done but here, at Chantors, we can settle in for a few days. Before we left Choma, Tim got his hair cut and also picked up a cell phone. We also purchased today's paper and the paper seller was kind enough to go find us one from Sunday which had all the details about the arrival of Pres. Manawasa's body on Saturday.
Upon arrival at Chantors Darlene and I had a much needed nap while Tim and Sara walked into town to exchange money and do some shopping. They returned quite pleased with their purchases and we’re discovering that our gentle Sara is a vicious bargainer. We spent some time relaxing at pool-side but it was late enough in the day and the water was so cold that we didn’t get in. We’ll save a dip for the middle of the day down the road when cold water will really feel good. Dinner here at Chantors was delicious, graciously served and reasonable in cost.
That's enough for now. More details later about Victoria Falls, Chobe Game Park and our day canoeing the Zambezi River and avoiding an upset hippo. Tomorrow Tim and Sara leave for the US while we head back to Choma then on to Sikalongo on Saturday where we’ll settle down for a while.
