Zambia

After more than 2 days of travel, my feet touched the motherland at approximately 9 am local time. My sister Grace was there to meet us, and the brother of Christine's best friend. It was a little bit of trouble finding the place because Google isn't familiar with Zambia. A local man guided us to where we trying to be, near violet street. Ba Hope was there to greet us and Ba Mercy, the landlady, came later to see that everything was well. It is a very nice place but rough around the edges. In Zambia, you see all the inner workings- the hot water heater is on the side of the house, the outdoor plumbing is exposed, the gas stove runs off what looks to be a propane tank. Perhaps this is a metaphor for the country. 

I was disappointed at how at home I felt at the mall. Despite the gross poverty apparent in the country, the first class luxuries are all in tact. Here is a place where the working people walk home along dusty roads with no sidewalks, and the latest iPhone is in display at the mall. Today is my sister's birthday, Helen. She was very late in arriving, something that peeved Christine because she was hungry (our car and driver (Grace's boyfriend) were waiting for Helen). She came and I treated everyone to the closest steak shack. Her 2 year old ate with relish. She mentioned that she wasn't able to get her hair done because the person was too busy. Christine commented on her new shirt. 

After eating, we walked to the other end of the mall to buy groceries. I engaged Helen in conversation and she informed me that she hadn't eaten before our meal. I picked up on the food insecurity immediately and began asking more directed questions, about what foods they had at home. They have no fridge, so I bought her some imperishables alongside our own groceries. They stay in a 3 room house (not 3 bedroom, 3 room). There are 5 of them, 2 women and 3 children. Apparently, she's told Christine that Ryan, her son, doesn't like to eat much except for a sour milk that's a local custom. 

I see a lot of struggles in her face, but they are not spoken upon. Later we muse upon them. We realize that although the bus was only k15 ($0.90) she probably was late because she had to collect the money. We consider how we can accompany her to build a better life. We've tried before, but we're undaunted when it comes to trying again. Grace sits jaw dropping when hearing of parks, community centers, food stamps, SSI, low income housing and the like. Sober, we realize that in zambia, family is the only social program available, yet it is breaking down just ask swiftly as it is in America. 

I just can't get past the fact that there are no sidewalks.