This is Zambia

I pulled this essay from old blog drafts that were never published. It was originally written last year in July or August, I think. Though the daily details change, I think the piece illustrates the gist of how life runs here in Zambia. Originally I didn't have photos to post with the words (thus, I did not post it). I'm using photos from our recent bus ride back to Choma from Lusaka. They are all typical scenes here in Southern Province.

Yesterday Heather joined a friend for a social call at one of the pastor’s houses in town (~30 minute walk). She invited me to walk with her to the hospital to take a breather from my office, and I happily accepted her invitation.

The walk to the hospital is a brisk 10 or 12 minute trek. We had hardly made it 5 minutes down the road, when we noticed Stebbin, one of the field officers, riding his motorbike on the parallel path in the same direction we were headed.

We made it about three minutes further (overtaking Stebbin’s then-stopped motorbike), but stopped to greet Marvin, the accountant at Central Office, who was returning to the office from lunch break.

We were almost to the foot bridge when we noticed our pastor cycling toward us. So, we stopped and greeted him.

Meanwhile, Stebbin had finished his previous conversation and stopped to say hello before riding his motor bike on down the path for lunch.

At the bridge, we greeted two ladies who eyed us with deep stares.

Just after we crossed the foot bridge, our carpenter came around the bend on his bicycle headed toward Nahumba. We stopped and chatted, and scheduled a time for him to stop by to visit Sunday afternoon.

At the junction of the hospital drive and the road to town, Heather and I split ways. I headed back to Nahumba the long way, and she proceeded to town.

That evening, a friend messaged me: “I saw you at the hospital. I kept waving, but you didn’t see me.”

Just when we thought we’d seen everyone… haha!

This is Zambia. This is our life.