Thanks to those of you that sent beautiful hand-made blankets with my dad to give to sweet Mirinda. The baby was swaddled in far too many layers (in my humble opinion), but Mirinda is rightly proud of her little one and was especially delighted to show off her little man in "American clothes." The baby does not yet have a name. Traditionally, fathers name their children so we are waiting on Dead-Beat Dad to show up (still hasn't seen his son though he was born 5 days ago). I suppose I should be more gracious toward this man, but I am still holding a grudge (he proposed to Mirinda and failed to mention that he is ALREADY MARRIED). Hmph.
These pics were taken at a UCZ church in Kalalalushi where I taught my last class! Sad. In 2 short weeks I leave beautiful Zambia and I can hardly believe that this incredible season of life is coming to an end.Showing emotion in public is not culturally acceptable (outside of funerals), but I had a difficult time not bursting into tears when my students stood at the end of my final lecture and began singing, "Twatotela ba mayo...Mwende bwino ba mayo" meaning "Goodbye our mother... Go well our mother."
I love teaching. Each class is fresh and new because of the wonderfully diverse students I encounter each week. The first class I ever taught was in Mazabuka "the sweetest city in Zambia" (named so for the large sugar plantation that sits in the center of town) where warm, hospitable, but very poor farmers welcomed me with open arms. It was here I was given my first chetenge, preached my first sermon in Zambia, and where my colleagues and I received cakes courtesy of a little mama (almost blind). I am constantly humbled living here. The generosity of my final class was no exception. As I was leaving the church the secretary stuffed 100,000 kwatcha in my hand (about $30) and insisted I take this for "transport money." I again had a difficult time holding back the tears. Next week I go to Lusaka to pick up my passport from the U.S. embassy and I will proudly use this money to pay for the bus. Aaaaah, Zambia.
2 comments:
Hey Carmen,
I remember leaving Moldova during the Peace Corps and the last few days were very emotional. Not so much for leaving the country, but leaving our wonderful neighbor friends that we considered family. I remember taking down all the pictures on the wall that were a constant reminder of all that we had experienced there. I was listening to Sarah McLaughlin "In the Arms of an Angel" while I was removing the pictures. I couldn't see what I was doing through all the tears. You've gone through an amazing life changing experience, it's hard to hold back your emotions.
Take Care
Love
Brett
Hey Carm--- It's great to read about your adventures and how much the people there mean to you. blessings-
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