I biked early from my village this morning, on a dirt road between a bursting golden, pink, and purple sunrise to my right, and the humongous white Supermoon to my left. The sky was an explosion of indescribable beauty. And as I celebrate one year of service in Zambia, I have had some recent tears that remind me of how beautiful this adventure has been. I did not expect to cry; after all, I have transitioned into a tough, I-can-do-anything Peace Corps volunteer. But these are different tears than I have ever experienced before-- tears of overwhelming happiness. They are my expressions of gratitude for the family I have inherited in Zambia, and for my family and friends at home in America.
My friend and I hosted the new health trainees for 3 days this past week, teaching them how to fetch water, cook on a charcoal stove, make a fire, give a condom demonstration in front of 80 laughing teenagers... you know, daily life in rural Zambia. On the last night, we cooked an "American" dinner of tortillas and vegetables for my friend's Bataata (a village Chief!), Bamaama, and counterpart (who must be a brother to my friend from a past lifetime, I am sure). Sitting with this family, gathered around the dancing candlelight with prayers and humble words of thanks filling the air, I glanced at my friend sitting between his Zambian parents. He looked like their son. I mean he really, really looked like he belonged to their family. My heart and my tear ducts filled to the brim. I told my friend's family what I was seeing, and how incredible it was. I then cracked a joke, asking how their son inherited his height, and everyone laughed. When I peered at my friend, I saw him tearing up as well. It was a night I will remember for the rest of my life.
It is in these moments, full of love and sharing and open hearts, that I know I am exactly where I need to be. My time in Zambia has not been easy, and every day has both its own challenges and successes. This work is hard, frustrating, and disappointing at times. Some days people will show up to meetings that will last 5 inspiring hours; some days nobody will show up at all. Some days I feel energized and on top of the world, biking from health talks at the clinic to Anti-AIDS club meetings at the school. Some days I am so exhausted, I don't know if I can make it up that last hill. But this is the most meaningful work I have ever done, not just in terms of grassroots development, but in terms of individual connections I have made. I am stronger, both physically and mentally, than I have ever been in my life. For this growth, for these connections, and for this crazy beautiful ride, I say thank you Zambia. Twalumba kapati.
