Mulishani from Zambia!
Before I get into it, my phone number while I’m in Zambia is +260 96 858 3910. I’m pretty sure it’s dialed the same as my South Africa number, so from Canada, dial: 011 260 96 858 3910. If that doesn’t work, e-mail and let me know so I can figure it out. Or perhaps you can just google it.
I arrived here finally on Sunday. Let me tell you, it was hectic.
I spent the entire week before coming to Zambia in Bushbuckridge with a woman named Grace in the village of Delani. I wrote about her earlier. It was such an incredible and inspiring time. I’m trying to decide how much include on this blog. Brace yourselves, I think it’s going to be long. She is a widow; her husband died a couple years ago from Aids and as she tells me the stories, she brings me to tears and I can tell it is still so fresh and so painful. She lives with her three children (Memory, Mordeca, and the second born which I can’t remember the name) and her husband’s youngest brother (I’m awful at this name game today). The second born was not around the entire time I was there, as he ran off to the initiation school without his mother’s permission. The initiation school is another topic of discussion, but basically they spend 3 months in the bush learning how to be a man. They miss 3 months of school and most can never catch up. Every day I walked from Delani to Hluvukani to catch the taxi with a man named Petrus. It is about a 4 km walk each way. He is an inspiring man as well. Sometimes I feel so discouraged in South Africa with the behaviour of men. I always thought it was not a stereotype if there were no exceptions. But Petrus is an exception. He works at the clinic with disabled people and also pastors a church. But unlike all other pastors who insist on not having a name, but rather “Pastor”, he ensures he is referred to as “Brother”. One thing that really stood out to me when we walked together is his love for children. I also found this rare. He would greet children as they passed. Greet children. This is a concept also foreign to me with South African men. But Petrus, he is different. I found a new love for South Africa and the work I’m doing. When people like these exist in the communities, I know why I am here.
I left Bushbuckridge on Friday and returned home by 4:00 pm. I busied my butt in the office getting everything settled before I left, hung out with some dear friends, and then packed until 2:00 am. I woke at 4:30 am to head off to Nelspruit to catch the bus to Johannesburg, not knowing that I was heading towards a very frustrating and (now) comical day.
My bus arrived a little late to the airport. I was scheduled to leave at 12:20 pm and arrived only at 10:00 am. The gates close an hour before the flight. The airport in Jo’burg is chaos and big and, I think, poorly organized. So I struggled to find where the heck I was going. I got to the check-in finally and they couldn’t bring up my ticket. I was at the wrong check-in and wasn’t flying with South Africa Airways, but South Africa Airways Airlink. I got to the right check-in and the woman couldn’t find my booking. She asked another woman and she couldn’t find my booking as well. They sent me to the ticket counter and told me to get my … e-something or other. So I went and the woman found my booking but said it was cancelled. (Okay, please let me reiterate I arrived at 10:00 and the gate closes at 11:20 for my flight). The woman said the booking was cancelled because it never got paid. When I booked the ticket I told the travel agent to charge it to Hands’ account, but I guess Hands never paid it. She re-booked it and said I can still have it but will have to pay. I gave her my card. Declined. I could feel a knot in my throat forming, the kind when tears are preparing to come. I searched around for a FNB (my bank in South Africa) to check how much money I had. I went to the ATM – Out of Order – so I had to stand in the line to get to the teller. The ticket cost R4,500. I had R4,000. The day before I had spent R900 on a coordinators meeting that Pepfar is to reimburse me for and a week before I had lent out R3,000. Pity. Oh, I also had no airtime for my phone, so that made things difficult too. I called Lynn and asked him to quickly drive to a FNB and deposit R500. That way it is instantly in my account. Now it was about 30 minutes before the gate closed. Lynn finally deposited the money, but it is too late. It was 11:20. I asked the woman about the next flight. It left the next morning. I asked to book that flight but now it cost R4,900. LUCKILY, Lynn deposited R1,200 so I could pay for the ticket and have R300 leftover. Now I have to figure out where to stay in Jo’burg until tomorrow. Again, luckily (for me but not for them) Lynn and Jayme were spending the weekend in Jo’burg to celebrate Jayme’s birthday and their 6th anniversary. They said I can join them on their anniversary celebrations and stay with them, but I needed to get a shuttle to Pretoria. I went to the shuttle place and the shuttle cost R480. I only had R300. I could feel the knot all day, now my eyes began feeling a little moist. I asked another lady and she tried to help. She brought me in her little office and grabbed a man. The man said he could take me. I said I now just need to go to Sandton (an area in Jo’burg). The lady said she will get her driver since I don’t need to go to Pretoria anymore. This made the man mad because he really wanted to take me. They argued over me a little bit and the man sounded desperate to take me. He said he can take me for R300. I’m feeling a little sketched out at this point, a little stressed out, and ready for a break down. They both stared at me awaiting my decision. I asked the man what he is driving (I just got a sketchy feeling from him). He said it was a shuttle, but I assumed it was a taxi. Jo’burg is dangerous and taking taxi’s also dangerous. I asked him if I was the only one going or if he had other passengers. He said I was the only one. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable going with him alone. He gave me a look like I was crazy. Jayme called and I tried to explain the situation to her, in code, while the two stared at me. She said her and Lynn will just pick me up. The man left the room and then I just broke down and cried in front of the shuttle lady. I was a sad case.
But I spent the evening with Lynn and Jayme, watched some live music (a Nigerian guy who had a sound similar to Ben Harper), and ate great food. I feel bad I joined them on their Anniversary night, but very appreciative of their generous and hospitable character.
I finally arrived to Zambia and it’s beautiful. It’s safe! I can walk around alone! I don’t live in a prison! I spent some time with Jessie before she left, visited some communities, and began preparations for my church team to arrive. I also got to visit Ben and Alicia, my old youth pastors from Lloyd. They are currently in Luanshya (where I am) with an organization called FCE. It was awesome! SO good to catch up and so crazy to catch up in Africa together. Very random. But I’ll be seeing them again on Saturday before they head off.
I’ll stop here. Sorry it was long, but there was a lot to tell.
I’ll be in Zambia until September 3, so feel free to call.
Love you all.
