Acclimating

Day 50 in Zambia

When talking to a friend from America today, she made the observation that it must be strange to move back and forth between the worlds of poverty and affluence here in Zambia.  It was so strange to me at first.  The contrast was unbelievably stark.  But, now that I think about it - sitting here at the golf club having drinks with the ex-pats who work at the mine - I don't find myself as uncomfortable as I did at first.  My life in Meheba and the privileges I have based on my skin color and associations when in town are both just parts of my reality here.  I guess this is a pretty good summation about how I'm starting to feel here.  Things are just feeling "normal".  It's a little unfortunate that with a short stay, you start to get comfortable just as you are getting ready to leave.  Just when you get used to one way of life, you return home and are thrown for a loop once again, trying to re-acclimate to the world you came from.

Another Week in Africa

Day 44 in Zambia… Part 2

Ahhh… home again.  VERY quick trip to Solwezi today.  It’s amazing how little I have to do lately to make myself exhausted.  I am feeling much better.  Still coughing, but neither as weak nor in as much pain as I was.  It was not easy to get through the work week.  I took two days to just work from the compound (i.e. do a little reading and work on the computer, but mostly nap), but Friday I had to get back to work around the settlement.  It was a LONG day.  It started with a staff meeting with FHS to talk about Child Health Week and go over some of the updates I made to the curriculum and have them approved by our health workers.  Then it was off on my bike to Road 36.  On the way, I stopped to check in on our Women’s Center staff that has been sick for weeks now.  I spent a little time with her and her three youngest daughters (the oldest was at school) and although most of our conversation was with somber faces talking about her health, she suddenly broke into a huge smile and told me she had a story to tell me.  Apparently, her youngest daughter had asked about me a couple days ago.  Now there are two amazing things about this: (1) Her daughter is three years old and pronounced in PERFECT English “Where is Kimberly?”  No one in Meheba (except Jessica and Jeremy) can pronounce my full name and most people even have trouble pronouncing “Kim”, but a tiny little toddler can.  Go figure.  (2)  I have only met this little girl once before and she remembered not only who I am, but my name as well and conjured it up without even my presence to remind her.  I felt so honored. 

I know I promised stories of the canter truck ride to Solwezi and more reasons why children are awesome, but I just don’t feel like writing anymore.  Let’s just say that I make friends easily with people under the age of six (well I think I make friends easily with everyone, but it’s my interactions with these little guys that are the most entertaining).  There is such a simplicity and innocence with children.  Everywhere you go in the world children are the same.  They all want the same things, exhibit the same behaviors, gestures and mannerisms, and are entertained by the same silly games.  I love that they don’t care who you are, don’t care anything about you, just as long as you are nice and will play with them and smile a lot.  On the canter truck, I made friends with a five-year-old little girl who was going to town with her fourteen-year-old sister.  It really made the three hour ride go by so much faster.  She sat on my lap and played with my scarf and practiced counting to ten with me, while her sister and I talked about school, family, and marriage, and joked about the boy who was flirting with her.  Even though it isn’t quite as comfortable, I think riding in the back of the truck is a lot more interesting that having a seat of honor up front in the cab.

Day 46 in Zambia

My mood has been all over the place lately.  I am very sad when I think about how little time I have left here, but I am excited about my trip to Italy and coming home to see my family in a month.  I am also excited about some of the little luxuries I have been looking forward to when I return to the Western world.  I feel really happy about this opportunity that I’ve had to work in Meheba and all that I’ve learned.  I cherish the interactions I have with the refugees here and the friendships I’ve made.  But, I also feel frustrated about so many things.  It’s even more frustrating not to have anyone to talk to about these things and to have to be careful with how open I am in my blog so that I don’t hurt any feelings (or egos) or burn any bridges.  I want to be able to share with my family and friends my whole experience and opinions while I am here and it sometimes feels unauthentic to include only the positive, but omit anything that might be interpreted as criticism.  Part of the internship experience is to look critically at the organizations and individuals that play roles in the arena within which I want to make a career.  The point of getting out and experiencing things first hand is so that you can see beyond what people tell you, to the reality of the situation.  You need to have an understanding of the whole picture (not just the version looked at through rose-colored glasses or the perspective of a single stakeholder) in order to see how you might fit into it and serve some positive purpose.  And all of these observations and opinions must be kept to myself, spinning around in my head in confusion.

Day 47 in Zambia

Sana and Mwane are both preggers now.  Mwane has been waddling around the compound for a while, but I just noticed Sana’s belly this morning.  I guess the new Site Managers are going to have quite a lot of kittens on their hands pretty soon after they arrive. 

It’s weird to think that I only have two weeks of work left in Meheba.  I feel like I’m just getting started… just starting to feel useful and like I’m accomplishing something.  Today was pretty awesome.  For the next two weeks I’m teaching at the high school.  One of the science teachers is no longer there, so I’m teach grade 10 biology for two days each week and then holding two advanced science seminars on my own after school.  It was pretty fun.  In the biology classes I’m teaching about nutrition and the digestive system and in my seminars I’m going to teach about genetics and biotechnology one day and HIV and malaria another.  The students were great.  The education system in Africa is pretty militarized compared to the States.  The students are taught mostly through memorization and routine and order is very important.  While it is a little creepy to have a whole room of teenagers stand up when I enter the room and wait until I greet them and give them permission to take their seats, it is also nice to be able to have an orderly and obedient classroom to lecture in.  They did a great job at humoring my attempts for class participation and did well with speaking up and answering questions in class, which I thought might be the most difficult part for them.  I was really impressed by the questions they asked me though.  They did a great job at looking at the information we were discussing and then trying to apply it to their own daily lives and what it means for their own health.  I’m looking forward to going back tomorrow.

After spending the morning at the high school, I stopped at Road 36 in the afternoon.  I’m starting to be a little less of a novelty, which is nice.  There isn’t quite the same hysteria and frantic shouts of greeting at the new mzungu and instead, just the usual neighborly hellos.  I also like that I seem to run into EVERYBODY when I head out to Road 36.  I just rode out there to see the seamstress who is working on a skirt and dress for me and to give her some material for a purse I’m having her make as well.  On my way out, I ran into a couple of the FORGE staff and also the guy in the camp that makes the wooden carvings, who was very excited to bring me over to his house and get my approval on the pieces he made for me before varnishing them.  There are so many incredibly talented people here in Meheba.  The seamstress is not only talented, but a hard-working and savvy businesswoman.  The carver is INCREDIBLE.  I couldn’t hide my excitement when I saw the things he made.  He beamed with pride as I kept exclaiming how beautiful they were while my jaw hung open in shock.

Things are pretty busy in the settlement right now.  Last week, we welcomed the first wave of new arrivals from the Kala and Mwange camps.  Since many people have been or are soon being repatriated, the three refugee camps are being consolidated into the Meheba settlement.  So there has been a tremendous increase in the number of vehicles on the road coming into the camp – busses carrying the new refugees, as well as UNHCR vehicles that are carrying the employees who are busy getting them registered and settled in.  Then, just yesterday, The Book Bus arrived – a safari truck driven by the most awesome man in Zambia, staffed with volunteers from the UK.  They are staying in tents just outside our compound and during the days are traveling to the different schools to read to children and do projects and activities with them.  Everyone here is sooo excited to have them. 

And so another day passes in Meheba.  I’m falling asleep tonight with a feeling of such simple satisfaction.  Sometimes it is the small, unexceptional daily events of life that make it the beautiful thing that it is.

Day 49 in Zambia

I can’t believe this work week is over already.  I can’t believe I only have one more week of work left before I leave.  I really can’t believe I’m going to be twenty-five years old in two days. J  This week has been so busy, but very fun.  The British volunteers on The Book Bus are pretty cool and it’s been nice to spend a little time getting to know them.  I was at Meheba High School for the past couple days, teaching grade 10 biology.  I think this has been one of my most favorite experiences here.  I am teaching the section of the curriculum on nutrition and the digestive system.  We talked about nutrition Tuesday, and the organs of the digestive system yesterday.  Next week, we’re talking about different problems that can happen with the digestive system and dehydration, and the liver – its functions and associated diseases.  I really like teaching.  I was a little nervous as I was preparing my lesson plans, but I was surprisingly comfortable in front of a classroom of teenagers.  These pupils are GREAT.  They ask awesome questions – thinking about the material that we are learning and then trying to apply it in practical situations in their own lives.  Yesterday I stayed at the school to run my own advanced workshop after classes.  The topic for this week was biotechnology and The Human Genome Project.  When the time came for my workshop to start, no one was in the library.  I thought that maybe no one wanted to come and I was considering accepting failure and riding home.  Then, all of a sudden, a mob of high school students flooded the library.  It was packed!!  I was impressed once again with the students.  I taught at a very high level (similar to some of the material I was teaching UC Berkeley students in the class I was a GSI for last semester) and they kept up pretty well and were able to understand enough to formulate good questions and made sure to clarify key points so that they were certain they understood.  Next week I am doing a workshop on HIV and malaria – a bit of a virology and parasitology lecture.  Not only do I like spending time with the students at Meheba High School, but I’m also really enjoying the long bike ride out to Block A.  I think I ride twice as fast now as I did when I first arrived in Meheba.  It feels good to keep getting stronger and healthier. 

Today I got to stay close to home.  It’s Child Health Week and we had vaccinations and vitamin A distribution at FHS.  There is a big push for measles vaccinations since there is currently an outbreak in Zambia and they want to keep it from reaching the settlement.  The day was pretty awesome.  I got to hang out with little kids all day.  Granted most of them become crying little kids once they realized what was going on, but it was still fun.  It brought back a lot of memories of my own temper tantrums when having to get shots as a child.  In order to be sure that the same child did not go through the clinic twice, they have one fingernail painted with a purple dye when they first come in.  Being very smart children, many burst into tears just at this part because they knew what would be coming.  So I painted my own nail purple to help ease their fears a bit, which all of the mothers and most of the children thought was pretty funny.  When the kids would start to whimper, the mothers would point to me and my purple finger and say “Look at the chindele.  See she has her finger painted too.”  Or at least I think that’s what they said.  The only word in Luvale that I understood was chindele (white person).  Then everyone would laugh as the child would look up at me and I would hold our purple fingers next to each other and exclaim happily, “See… we match!”    I spent the first half of the day with a baby strapped to my chest with a chitenge.  Everytime I see our FHS coordinator who is on maternity leave right now, she puts her new baby boy in my arms.  He is soooo beautiful, and there is something very calming about the way a baby feels when you hold it close.  Our coordinator had her hands full with her two year old little girl.  She is very smart and knew exactly what was going on and wanted nothing to do with it.  Even though she usually runs up to me excitedly when I see her (after the first tearful meeting of the scary new mzungu, she has since decided I am her best friend), I couldn’t coax even the tiniest smile out of her.  She just stayed in her mother’s arms, looking VERY pissed off.  After she got her measles vaccine (as well as her vitamin A supplement and oral polio vaccine), she went home with her mom and her baby brother and my arms were free to console crying children who were with older siblings barely big enough to carry them or mothers burdened with multiple crying children.  I thought it was hilarious that the donors of the vitamin A that FORGE has wanted pictures of smiling children receiving the supplements they had generously donated.  How likely do they think you are to get a kid to smile when they know you are going to be stabbing them with a needle?  I did get some pretty good pictures though and hopefully they will satisfy.  The kids in the settlement LOVE it when I break out the camera.  They pose for the pictures, crowding in and pushing younger siblings out of their way, and then laugh hysterically when they review their images on the screen afterwards.  And you always get the one jokester who is a total ham and thinks he’s Mr. Cool Guy.  He’ll pose for the pictures like he’s some gansta or make funny faces, and then usually breaks out into a ridiculous dance at some point.  Seriously… never fails… there’s always one in a group.

Day Trip to Solwezi

Day 44 in Zambia

What a day!  I can’t believe that I woke up at 6:00, spent three hours in the back of a crowded canter truck, footed (walked) around Solwezi and now I am finally sitting on the patio of the Royal Solwezi hotel… and there is no power!  No power means no internet (and no chips… err “French fries”).  I’ll admit I’m a little let down.  That was pretty much my only reason for coming into town for the day.  It has been nearly three weeks since I’ve had internet access.  I’m ashamed to say that it makes me a little anxious not knowing what might be in my email inbox.  Being able to talk to my mom on the phone every now and then is a nice luxury, but difficult because cell network is iffy in Meheba.  I could call her now, since I have strong signal here in Solwezi, but considering it’s 2:30 in the morning in California right now I’m guessing she wouldn’t appreciate it.

I could sit here feeling tired and grumpy, but it actually was kinda nice to come into town.  The trip on the canter truck is always interesting and I did get a chance to pick up some fruit, chocolate, and bubble wrap in town so that’s a nice perk. J  OMG… and just as I type this, I think the power has just come on!  It’s really sad how excited that makes me.  Lol.    

And now, after checking emails and posting all of my backlogged blogs, I am totally sick of typing.  I’ll have to include my stories from the last two days in my next batch of blog posts.  Stay tuned to find out why kids are AWESOME.  I have come across several examples of the awesomeness of children in the past couple days.

Getting to Work

Day 25 in Zambia

 I feel like I’ve been so busy lately, and at the same time like I haven’t gotten all that much done.  I think that is the nature of development work… slow and difficult, but rewarding if you have the right nature for it.  Let’s recap:

FHS – FORGE Health Services: I’ve been making pretty good progress on updating the curriculum.  All I have left is to create a new curriculum for respiratory diseases, update the nutrition curriculum (which means I need to finish reading this nutrition textbook first) and add information on diabetes to it, add information about tobacco and drug use to the alcoholism curriculum, and try to develop a curriculum for the community health workers on blood pressure (and see if I remember how to take blood pressure well enough to teach someone else).  Friday we had some people from Catholic Relief Services/St. Mary Mission in Meheba come to FHS to hold a VCT day.  VCT = Voluntary Counseling and Testing for HIV.  The CRS staff taught me how to use their test kits (different from the kind we have approved for use in the States) and we tested twenty-seven people.  Jess was out in the little market just outside our gate with a group of children surrounding her who were taught to shout “VCT Today!!” on command. J  I’m supposed to have a meeting this Wednesday to see about arranging to have the Under-5 Clinic at FHS (that’s where they weigh the babies and children and give them vaccines and vitamin A supplements).  We also have Child Health Week coming up in mid-July so there will be plenty of preparations for that.  I also have yet to take more than a quick mental note of the state of our supplies and need to take a formal inventory of what little we have.  It is difficult and frustrating working in situations where there just aren’t the resources that you really need to be able to do all the work you’d like.  It’s the big challenge of working in development and aid and working in impoverished regions at all.  And, in this global economy, funding is not easy to come by.  The trouble is that health is a very expensive “human right”.  How do you ensure adequate care when you have limited resources?  I still need to go out with our health staff when they do outreach out in the field.  They are incredible people to work with and very good at what they do, so I’m interested to really see what type of health concerns people have in the camp and how the community health workers interact with the other refugees in the camp.  The coordinator just had her baby this weekend, so she’ll be on maternity leave for the next two months.  I’m glad they live right across the road, so even though I won’t see her at work I can still go over and visit her and the new little guy.

FMI/Block-H Harvest:  The harvest is in full swing and our coordinators seem confident that our clients will pay back their debt in full (we gave them seed and fertilizer, so they give us a set amount of the maize they harvest).  On Monday I rode out to Block-F and helped measure maize.  It is long and tedious work.  The farmers have to repay 180 metas of maize.  A meta is basically a sand-pail sized bucket full.  So you have to measure out 20 buckets into each of 9 sacks and then sew them closed.  I had the important task of chasing the chickens and goats away from the maize as they kept trying to sneak in and eat it.  It was really fun to hang out with the farmers and the people in F.  I like that part of camp.  It’s pretty quiet since they have some empty lots since people have been repatriated and the residents there humor me as I try to practice both my French and Swahili.  This week is going to be very busy making sure the farmers from the other parts of the settlement get their maize turned in and then transport it all to our storage container.  From there (when Jeremy is back from vacation) it’ll go to the market to be sold.

FORGE Womens’ Centre: I am going to be helping the women with a little bit of computer training on my laptop at their request.  It’s important for them to have skills they can use to help them get on their feet when they repatriate.  They already have classes in sewing skills so they can use that as a means of income, but they are very smart women and know that if they have computer skills, they can start working right away giving computer skills classes to other people.  One of them has also agreed to braid my hair for me this week since it’s starting to get kinda long and unruly (a few of the female staff members have commented on it and I’m not sure if that’s a clue I need to do something about it… hehe).

Meheba High School:  I met some of the high school students that FORGE sponsors last Thursday.  Jess gave a great little workshop on leadership and it was awesome to see what these guys had to say about leadership and what they thought of the leaders that they see in the world.  One of them is struggling in math, so I agreed to help him with a couple tutoring sessions before I leave.  I also got a great idea that I need to meet with the headmaster about.  They have a pretty good basic biology curriculum, but I love the idea of encouraging young people (especially girls) to chase after dreams of higher education, careers, and a life-long love of learning.  I am hoping to have a two-week advanced course in biology for those students that show an interest in and an aptitude for science.  So, we will see what happens with that.

Day 27 in Zambia

We have Coartem!!!  Hooray!  FHS has been waiting for months to have malaria medication and the Ministry of Health dropped off a box today.  Now, more people will come and get tested for malaria since we can give them medication if they test positive.   I went to pick up the key for the office from the FHS coordinator and she was so excited that she wanted to come over and start testing people, but she just had a baby five days ago and is supposed to be on leave for two months.  She is an incredible woman.  I told her that she has to rest and take care of herself and spend time with her new baby.  He is sooo beautiful. 

Today, I also had my first French lesson with one of our librarians.  He is coming to give me and Jess lessons during our last month or so here in Meheba.

It feels really good to be back in Meheba and getting some work done.  It’s nice to be in town with friends every once in a while… nice to have good food and a bubble bath, but I always breathe a sigh of relief once we drive through the gate at Meheba and are “home” once again.  This weekend is a four day holiday weekend, so it’ll be some more time with friends and then to Lusaka to pick Jeremy up from the airport.  It’ll be really nice to have him back from vacation.

I printed up blank calendars for the next two months and have been filling in all the things I want to get accomplished before I leave.  July is going to be a crazy busy month, but I’m really enjoying all the projects that I’m working on.

The best part about working in Meheba is that my work day is always dotted with great interactions and conversations with people.  Yesterday, after we were done measuring maize (I was sewing the bags closed), we stopped by one of the pastor’s houses to say hello.  He and his family are INCREDIBLE.  He has a beautiful wife and children.  His wife is a seamstress here and a really intelligent and hard-working woman.  She is going to make a couple things for me before I leave so that I have clothes for Italy at the end of the summer.  This family is from the Democratic Republic of Congo and is in the process of pursuing resettlement in the States.  I am praying very hard that they make it through the rest of the application process and that I will be visiting them back in the U.S.  This man is a great person to talk to.  He is perfectly suited for his work as a pastor.  He is very intelligent and has such a heart for people.  He is always acting as an advocate and I can see that he is respected in the community and is a good person to go to for wisdom and advice.  He and his church have done a lot of really good work in this community.  And, the great thing is that his congregation is very integrated.  While many of the churches seem to be predominantly made up of people from the same country of origin, his includes refugees from all over Africa.  It is always a beautiful thing when you see refugees from different countries working well together and unified here in Meheba.  It is not an easy thing to do.  Our conversation got me thinking a lot about the medical missionary work that I’d like to do and got me thinking about the possibilities of what this new friendship could lead to.  He is a man that I trust very much and can see the light of God shining out from, and I would love to work with him on some projects in the future.

I also got a chance to meet “the carver” in the camp (also from the DRC) and he is working on a few things for me to bring back home.  It is always interesting trying to communicate with people through many languages.  He speaks French and Swahili and a little bit of English, while I speak English and a little bit of French and Swahili.  This is pretty typical of my interactions with many of the Congolese in the camp and is always a fun interaction trying to find creative ways to get your point across.  The woodworking that this man does is beautiful.  There are so many very talented people that I have met here.

As positive as this experience has been, it’s always hard to see the suffering and pain that exists in the world (no matter where you are).  Slowly, I am beginning to hear bits of information about why people became refugees in the first place and the terrible things that they witnessed and experienced.  People have many different ways of developing coping mechanisms that allow them to go on with their lives and it’s interesting to observe that and the strength that they have in persevering.  While some of the people in the camp are examples of incredible stories of perseverance and courage… people trying to carve out a solid future for themselves and their families, refusing to be broken by their past, you also see a lot of the lingering effects of violence and war.  It is not uncommon for people to manage depression with the abuse of alcohol or marijuana.  It is also not uncommon to see once decent men turn into raging monsters that abuse their wives and cause their families to live in hell.  Some people have internalized the label of ‘refugee’ and have given up hope of having a better future, wallow in idleness, or take on a feeling of entitlement to aid and dependence on others for everything.  While the health situation is much better in Meheba than other refugee populations or impoverished villages, there are still things that are difficult to accept as normal here.  Malaria is endemic and there seems to always be someone on our staff who is sick and unable to work because of it.  Tuberculosis is something that is much more common here than in the States and HIV as well.  People that are very poor are often malnourished (even one of our staff was not able to produce milk for the first few days after her baby was born because they did not have enough food until her husband was able to get some of their money from the bank), which makes them vulnerable to all these other diseases.  Teen pregnancy and early marriage is an issue.  It is not uncommon for young girls to give up a future of education and empowerment to be young wives and mothers (my guess is usually not by choice per se).  Because abortion is illegal in Zambia, you have the added issue of “back alley” or self-abortion that can lead to horrible complications and even death of the girl.  Someone that is close to the FORGE staff had to be rushed to the hospital with bleeding problems and it is suspected that this might have been the case for her.  I have met women who are widows trying to care for multiple children on their own, and wives of abusive husbands who have come close to death on more than one occasion.  No matter where you go, there are always these horrible things that you come across and have to battle.  Everywhere in the world there is the same pain and heartbreak.  But, I am hopeful that there is a beautiful future in the distance (probably much farther than anyone can see) where this evil and suffering will finally be overcome.  That is the hope that keeps me working towards it, chipping away at the hurt bit by bit every day.  It is a good purpose to live for. 

Day 30 in Zambia

I caught fish today!!  It’s a long holiday weekend (Unity Day and Heroes Day on Monday and Tuesday) that coincidentally is also a long holiday weekend in the U.S. as well.  I’m with friends on a houseboat in Lake Kariba since I have four days off of “work”.  It is beautiful out here.  This lake is man-made and the dam is an incredible work of civil engineering.  I think it might be the biggest lake I’ve ever seen… bigger than Lake Tahoe in the Sierras even.  For a little bit, I felt like I was back home on one of my childhood family vacations to “the lake”.  As I was fishing for bream (little lake fish) off the side of our boat – baiting the hook with the live worms, detangling my hook from the weeds, feeling for just the right moment to pull up and bring in the fish – I felt like a girl again, fishing with my dad.  I have moments like this every so often in Zambia… and then I see an elephant drinking at the side of the lake or hear the grunts of hippos and I remember that I am indeed in Africa. 

Excerpts from my personal journal:

2 July 2010  Midnight

I don’t know what is with me lately.  Two nights of fitful sleep now.  Last night I had terrible dreams and woke up disturbed, but with little memory of the details.  I could not help but wake early in the morning, my mind racing with worry about [one of the refugees I have befriended].  I pray that she will be repatriated to Angola very soon so she and her daughters will be sage.  It breaks my heart that she left her home and her family ten years ago to escape the horrors of war, only to encounter evil and danger in her own home here.  God, please keep her safe so she can return to her family.  I have a very real fear that she will be dead before she can escape.  How can a man’s heart become so twisted and mangles that he can be capable of such evil?  It made me feel better to visit both her and [one of the FHS staff who has been sick] yesterday to see how things were with their illnesses [they both have malaria right now], but the worry and desperate praying persist.  And now, another night of sleep that brings no rest.  I am awake after only a couple hours of sleep.  I have a strange feeling that I was having more dreams that I do not remember.  I woke feeling so emotional… as if I want to cry, but I’m not sure about what.  When I stepped outside the night moon peeking out from a sky mottled with clouds literally took my breath away.  Sometimes simple beauties can make me forget to breathe.  Standing in the middle of the courtyard I bathed in the moonlight and listened to the wind blow through the tall grass and trees.  It is one of the most relaxing things I know.  It is in that quiet moment that the whisper of God is there, swirling around me.  I cannot make out the words, but it comforts me nonetheless.

3 July 2010  20:15

The stars over Lake Kariba are beautiful.  On a clear night like this it is easy to look up and imagine the infinite expanse of space – the universe stretching out before me.  The concepts of other planets and galaxies and the possibilities of what might exist are not difficult to wrap your head around when you look into a night sky like this.  I am up on the deck of the houseboat, listening to crickets and hippos hum along to the music playing from the deck below, swatting away the moths attracted to my headlamp.  I am so happy here.  I feel so much more comfortable in my own skin.  I still struggle with so much, but I find it easier not to get caught up in it.  I still have my moment of insecurity, but it is at like 5 or 10% strength.  I still can’t help but think about my future too much and worry too much.  I still feel that ache of loneliness.  But, despite all those things, I can honestly say that I am happy.  I’m not sure what I expected this summer.  I think that sometimes I expect that I should have all of these profound moments.  My first trip to Africa was full of these moments of insight and revelation.  Everything was so new to me at that time.  It really was right at the beginning of my life transforming, so everything seemed to be so much more significant.  This time around I think I am learning that it is okay to just live life.  There is contentment in simplicity.  God is present in every breath you take… in every small moment.  It doesn’t take miracles or a loud booming voice that shakes that space deep inside my heart and makes me dizzy.  Sometimes we look for the earthquake, the clap of thunder, the burning bush… but most often the voice of God is a whisper.  God is in the noisy silence of the night in Africa.  God is in the breeze that blows gently across my face.  God is in the simple image of a black sky punctuated with a million twinkling stars.  God is in the murmur of friends in the background and the laughter that breaks through the hum of nature.  I do not need a moment to feel the presence of God.  I feel it now in every small moment that passes by without fanfare in this life of simple satisfaction.

Day 31 in Zambia

We woke up early this morning and went out in a small boat with one of our crew members, Gift, to look at animals coming to the lake to drink.  The sunrise was gorgeous.  Just the three youngest of our group woke up early to go out in hopes of seeing some lions.  Cruising across the lake in the little motorboat made me feel so at home.  We didn’t see lions, but we did see lots of birds and hippos, and even a few water buck.  It was great to sit and talk with Gift.  He is the son of a hunter and grew up with a love of being out in nature.  We talked a lot about our childhoods and it made me think a lot about my dad.  In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad while here at the lake.  I wish he was here.  I so appreciate the childhood that I had.  I was exposed to so much and am nearly fearless as I go out into the world.  I don’t mind getting dirty or being out in nature away from modern conveniences and amenities.  I feel strong and capable, willing to try just about anything.  It felt good to fish yesterday.  It felt good to be comfortable baiting a hook with a live worm and holding a squirming fish as I took it off of my hook to throw into the pile of flopping bream on the deck.  Today Gift said that he will teach me to catch a tigerfish.  As a young girl, I had no appreciation for the lessons my father was teaching me.  I had no way of knowing how he would shape the woman I have become, nor how he prepared me to take on the world.  Thank you, Daddy.  I can’t wait for him to come with me to Africa someday.  I can picture us camping in the African wilderness, fishing in the lakes and rivers.  I can imagine us riding quads down the dunes of Namibia, and driving through the bush in a Land Cruiser.  I think he would enjoy an overland trip on dualsport bikes.  I hope I have a chance to do that with him… it would be such an incredible experience.  Better start planning, Dad. J  Next summer would be a great time to go… during the cool, dry season. 

Day 31 Part 2

As we were finishing breakfast Gift told us the story of the Yumi Yumi that lives in Lake Kariba.  The dam was built back in the 1950s and it is said that it caused the male and female Yumi Yumi to become separated.  The male lives on this side of the dam and the female lives on the other.  According to the story (I think it can mostly be attributed to the Tongan tribe that lived in what is now under water) the Yumi Yumi is a HUGE creature with the head of a snake and the body of a fish.  Every October, the local people put out offerings of meat and throw coins into the water.  There is a shrine near the dam that people travel to at this time to give their offerings and try to catch a sight of the creature that lives in the lake.  October is the only time of the year that the Yumi Yumi comes out of the water to feast on the meat that is left for it.  It is so big that it causes the earth to shake at that time of the year as it is moving through the water towards the dam.  Gift says he has not seen the Yumi Yumi himself, but his parents did.  There are no pictures of it because it will not show up in photos, but there have been drawings from people who have sighted it.  The young local people who go white water rafting on the river or skiing on the lake wear a talisman around their necks to protect them from this vicious creature, and parents keep their children from trying to find the Yumi Yumi every October for fear they will be eaten by it. 

Also, I’m thinking more about this overland idea.  I really am liking the sound of it.  I’m not sure I want to spend that much time on a motorcycle (although it does sound pretty adventurous, so it’s getting more appealing as I think about it), but I have it all figured out.  We’ll make it a family trip (me, my dad, my mom, and my sister if she wants to come).  We’ll go with a Land Cruiser and two dual sport bikes (one for my dad and one for a guide that we will hire).  My mom and I (and Jessi if she wants) will drive the Land Cruiser with our gear.  We can go pretty much the same route, riding/driving on tar roads and the dirt and gravel roads of the bush.  Dad and the guide can take detours through areas that are only accessible by dirtbike when they want, while my mom and I will take the local roads and meet up at a designated location.  We can travel through South Africa, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Namibia, Kenya, Tanzania… oh the possibilities.  When we’re done, my parents can fly home and I can start my new job in Africa (I WILL be working in Africa after this last year at Cal… I am sure of it).  And, since I’ll be living and working in Africa, we can buy the Land Cruiser (or a Surf or Prado) and just rent the motorcycles.  Perfection!

5 July 2010  06:00

I’m not usually an early riser, but I love this time just as the sun is rising.  An orange glow is peeking over the horizon and a cool early morning breeze gently tousles my messy hair.  At this time you can hear the sound of the world around you gradually waking from its slumber – the murmurs and footsteps of men getting ready for an early fishing trip, the calls of birds, a splash of a fish jumping, and the grunts of hippos as they wake and slide back into the water.  So much of the time I miss this opportunity – choosing instead to stay in the warmth and comfort of my bed.  This is the reward for the early riser.

Still, it is difficult for my mind to remain in the present.  This feeling of dread comes over me as I think about having to leave in a month.  I keep fantasizing about my future in Africa and making plans in my head of how to get a job here when I graduate next year.  I KNOW it is in my future, so I need to just let it go and trust that it will happen.  The gods laugh at the plans of men.  Plans are easily unraveled… destiny is inevitable.

Day 32 in Zambia

In my lifetime I have won many competitions, awards, honors, and accolades.  I have won races at swim meets, academic awards, and even a prestigious scholarship… but I think this might just be the proudest moment of my life.  The girls have just won the fishing competition for this trip with a catch of five tigerfish and ten bream in two days.  I won the honor of most fish caught by an individual with two tigerfish and five bream.  We have been laughing hysterically at the irony.  The men came out here with new tackle, serious about catching big fish.  They went out, skipping breakfast, with their fancy rods and reels, and a cooler box full of Mosi (Zambian beer).  The women however, took their time to have breakfast, went out onto the lake with toenails painted pink, serenading the fish with songs from Disney’s The Little Mermaid, having absolutely no clue how to fish and minimal equipment.  Victory is sweetened with the prize of a bottle of champagne.

This weekend has been SO much fun.  I’ve made wonderful friends while working in Zambia.  It is nice to have people to spend the weekends with and get a break from the stress and routine of work.  It is even better that “hanging out” with friends here involves traveling through Africa… I’d say this beats Taco Tuesday and Happy Hour at El Torito as a social event.  We have been laughing almost nonstop this weekend.

Last night Jess and I celebrated the 4^th of July by dumping tea over the side of the boat and singing the national anthem at the top of our lungs, watching fires burn in the distance as we stood on the top deck.  During the day we’ve been fishing, napping, and sunbathing… well, I’ve also been reading a nutrition textbook so I can finish that curriculum when I get back to Meheba.  At night we enjoy dinner, talking and laughing around the table, then sing along karaoke style to Stefan’s music on his laptop.  Usually someone ends up dancing around like a nut too.  At some point, I slip away to watch the stars and then head off to bed.  It’s also been nice spending time talking with our crew.  Jess and I were in the kitchen with our cook this afternoon making fajitas for everyone.  A Californian and a Texan cannot survive in Africa without Mexican food.  Jess taught both me and the cook how to make flour tortillas from scratch.  Lunch was AMAZING.  I was telling Jess today, “I’m not sure this is what they had in mind when they said we had to do an internship… but I am definitely learning A LOT here!”  Necessary life lessons.  If I want to work in Africa, there are many things that will come in handy to know that are beyond the scope of my formal education… cooking, fishing, haggling with merchants, and how to bond with the locals are just a taste of the list of skills that I have acquired in the last month.

Just because he has mentioned it several times now, I need to put a shout-out to Louw (pronounced “Low”) in my blog.  He’s one of my new South African friends.  Each time I refer to a person by name in my blog I make sure to ask their permission.  So far, I’ve left out any of the stories that refer specifically to Louw, although he is HILARIOUS and has been an integral part of this trip as the primary source of entertainment and “shittiest fisherman” (that’s what Gift called him while he took the men out fishing this morning and Lo got about twenty bites but couldn’t bring in anything).  He has once again reminded me that I am more than welcome to refer to him as “gorgeous” or “marvelous” in this public blog, so I felt bad that I hadn’t yet. J       

Day 36 in Zambia

Eway is in BIG trouble.  He’s our big fat daddy cat and he is the naughtiest of the bunch.  Last night I made some PB&J for the guys that were working late on the harvest and I put the plate of sandwiches on the counter with a glass lid over it so the cats wouldn’t get to them.   Frustrated that he couldn’t get the lid off, Eway decides that he will just push the plate off of the table to get to the sandwiches.  So he not only broke our glass lid, but made my sandwiches inedible (by humans… he got rewarded for his bad behavior by eating the sandwiches that had fallen to the ground) AND made me cut my foot on glass when I went in the kitchen to investigate the loud crash I heard.  These cats drive me crazy sometimes.

The past two days since coming home from the holiday weekend have been INSANE.  I am coordinating the activities from the harvest while Jeremy is on vacation and Jess is working in Lusaka.  As the farmers have turned in the maize that they owe, the bags have been stored in three different places.  Because the camp is soooo HUGE, it is difficult for many of the farmers to bring it all the way to the FORGE compound in Block C.  So, for the past two days I have been managing a team of men (well men and boys if you want to get technical) as they transport the bags of maize from Block H and Road 36 to Block C in a pick-up truck.  It may not sound like a difficult job, but trust me… everything is more complicated than you would think here.  Communication is difficult because the cell signal is so bad in Meheba, when you plan for something to happen at a certain time it will most likely happen hours later, the roads are bumpy and must be navigated slowly, the work of loading and off-loading these bags is VERY physical, payments for fuel and laborers must be negotiated and re-negotiated and eventually paid and documented, fuel needs and costs must be calculated and fuel must be purchased, and then you have to consider how you will take care of the workers who are laboring hard all day.  Just coordinating lunch is an ordeal.  I go to the market to buy groceries (which is a good 7 or so kilometers away).  Then I make sure to enlist help in cooking.  Then you have to cook the food, wash dishes, and serve the men.  It has been a tiring but enjoyable and productive couple days.  We are nearly through with all of the collection of the maize and I have been learning a lot from the women I have been spending time with in the kitchen.  I even know how to make nshima now.

There has also been a lot of time for interesting discussions as we wait for the truck to come back and forth.  I love talking with the refugees here.  We talk about politics, religion, foreign affairs, development work, differences and similarities between Africa and America, marriage and family, the empowerment of women, the empowerment of refugees, microfinance, the importance of education, the importance of entrepreneurialism and self-sufficiency, the incompetency of men and superiority of women (true in any nation or culture… hehe), dynamics within families and taking care of elderly parents… the list goes on and on and on…

In the past several days I have had quite a handful of people (at least one a day) comment on my passion for Africa.  People keep saying how clear it is how much I love it here and how passionate I am about not just the work I want to do, but the people of Africa and my place in this community.  They seem pleasantly surprised at how I embrace the culture and assimilate… not just out of necessity, but taking joy in it.  We joke that I think I am African already.  J  When I went outside our gate to the little market by the road this afternoon, I stopped to chat with a group of women that were sitting there.  I get bored just staying in the house, so I like that there are always people to talk to just outside the gate.  One of the women in the group complimented me on my ability to communicate.  What she really meant was my willingness to communicate.  She said that sometimes people come from America and do not talk to people.  They stay inside the compound… always outsiders.  But I go out and talk to people all the time.  These women seemed to appreciate that I have made an effort to get to know them and become friends.  It seems so natural to me, but I guess it can be scary as the new person and difficult to just act like part of a community that you stand apart from in so many obvious ways.  I have chosen to openly acknowledge my differentness, joking about being the mzungu and poking fun at myself when I do not know what is going on or cannot follow a conversation that is not in English.  I’ve learned then it is best to just get over your shyness and put yourself out there.  People are laughing with you, not at you.  If you are genuine, people will accept you for who you are… the good and the bad.  And here, they will comment on it openly… both your good and bad qualities, without judgment, just honesty.  Just today I was told that I was very smart, good at communicating, happy, take good care of people, will be remembered forever… and I was also told that I have bad skin, need to be better about remembering to put on mosquito spray, and my heels are dry and cracked.  Haha.  All are true… all are a part of who I am, and none of these comments were meant to be anything but honest observations.  I was talking with a couple of the guys yesterday and I was saying that I think I am happier here because I feel like I can just be myself.  I don’t feel like I have to keep up with any standard of perfection or define myself by what I have achieved.  I can just be me.  In the States, I feel so much pressure.  I feel like I am constantly chasing after something that is just making me insane.  Here, the people I am around make me feel like I am okay just the way I am… they don’t require me to be anything more than that.      

Day 39 in Zambia

Every time I think of something that I want to be sure to write about in my blog I don’t stop to take the time, and then when I finally sit down with my laptop I am too tired to feel much like writing.  So sorry that all my brilliant thoughts will have to go undocumented for now J  I am exhausted.  Still very happy… but very tired.  I only have a few more short weeks here in Meheba before I need to leave for Lusaka and I am working my tail off trying to accomplish everything I set out to.  It is sometimes frustrating to me how little work I get done, yet how tired I am at the end of every day.  It is so much more tiring to work in an unfamiliar place, where you are not used to the food, weather, living accommodations, culture, language, or anything really.  I love it here.  I love the differentness from my life in the States… that was the whole reason to go out and see the world.  But, I’m not sure I anticipated how much energy it zaps out of you.

Okay, I’m starting to get into the writing groove now.  Not enough to give the entire rundown of my activities over the past few days, but let’s just say it has involved a lot of work.  Last week I finished up my responsibilities with the harvest and handed the project back to Jeremy upon his return from his vacation and now my energies are focused back onto FHS and working with the students FORGE sponsors at Meheba High School. 

I spent yesterday morning at the Pentecostal Church at Road 36 in Block D.  I haven’t been able to go to church since I’ve gotten to Zambia because I’ve always been away doing something else on Sundays.  It was nice to finally go to church, even though it was unlike any church service I have ever been to.  I had a great time and I already knew that I liked the pastor after our conversation when I visited his home, but everyone else in the congregation was pretty great too.  Very warm and welcoming to me.  Even the lady that speaks French to me in the market was there!  I loved how loud and colorful it was.  The Bible mentions so many times that we should worship with shouts and songs and dance.  We should worship with our whole hearts and bodies.  Africans know how to worship.  My hands were nearly sore from clapping to the music.  I love how people who have been through so much and have so little still praise God with so much joy and thankfulness.  I love that we literally waved to the Holy Spirit (several times throughout the service).  The four-hour service was a bit longer than I am used to, but nearly the whole thing was like a party for God.  The service opened with two-and-a-half hours of traditional African songs and dance praising God before we even got to the sermon.  I thought the sermon was on a very relatable story – for both myself and the refugees.  It was about Abraham and his obedience to God.  He ventured out bravely because God told him to.  He left his home and all that was familiar to him, having no idea where he would eventually end up.  All he had to hold onto was the promise that God made to him and he clung to that in faith and he was rewarded for his faith and obedience.  And in the midst of this incredible story you find just one small example of what a man of God Abraham was.  He welcomes three strangers into his home, not knowing at first that they are in fact two angels and the Lord himself.  He shows them incredible hospitality and is rewarded with God’s blessings and promise.  We must always be caring and hospitable.  God does not always appear as we expect.  God comes to us “incognito” as the pastor said.  It reminded me of the meaning of the word Namaste.  It means “the God in me recognizes the God in you”.  God resides in all of us, so every time we show kindness to another person, we are honoring and showing kindness to God… the bit of God in them is precious.  To honor our brothers and sisters… our neighbors… humanity… is to honor God. 

Day 40 in Zambia

My head is spinning.  Physically, I feel run down.  I’m not sure what the problem is, but I haven’t been 100% the past couple days.  I think that working in an unfamiliar environment is taking its toll.  My spirits are high and I have so many things that I want to do in the next few weeks.  But, my body cannot keep up and it frustrates me.  I feel so tired.  My brain is not doing so hot with the higher levels of function, which has been a source of entertainment for Jeremy and myself.  Let’s just say I was having issues with African geography yesterday.  I woke up this morning with a sore throat and have been nursing tea and sucking on throat drops all day.  I went out into the field to conduct interviews for an evaluation I am working on and was back home by two o’clock in the afternoon.  A part of me would just like to stay home and read all day tomorrow (and Jeremy asked why I wasn’t going to just take a day to chill here), but I have to interview twenty-five people in Block B and tomorrow is the only day that I have free to do it.  I’m at the high school all day Thursday and have a staff meeting for FHS Friday.  Next week is Child Health Week, but I still have to figure out what that means exactly as far as FHS activities.  I have no time to be sick, so I am choosing to push forward.  It is difficult to have sympathy for myself for feeling a little run down when people here get Malaria all the time.  It could be worse, so I am just grateful for my Malarone, multivitamins, and herbal teas.

I think it is interesting how much people depend on the clinics here.  After a difficult ride up to the high school in Block A in the mid-day sun, I ended up ralphing in a ditch (in front of a crowd of high school students… it was like a nightmare from my teen years) and the first thing the FORGE staffperson I was with asked was, “Do you want to go to the clinic?”  The reality is that most things I might suffer from here, I could treat myself at home with rest, water, and ibuprofen.  Even if there is really nothing the clinic can do, everyone here seems to go to the nearest clinic anytime they feel at all unwell.  In an American household, you might find a dozen or more over-the-counter medications and first aid supplies, but here people have to make the trek to a clinic just to get some ibuprofen for a sore back.  Just another thing I take for granted.

It is very interesting to be a mzungu in Africa.  It makes you think a lot about money and the definition of wealth.  I think any American that spends time in the Third World has to come to terms with their relative privilege and the guilt they might feel because of it.  I don’t think one needs to be a financial martyr, living in self-inflicted poverty for the sake of principle.  There is nothing wrong with being born into a situation of privilege.  There is nothing wrong for allowing yourself the comforts that your wealth can afford you.  At the end of the day, you just have to feel good about the choices you have made.  Have I been a good steward of what I have been blessed with?  Have I shown compassion and hospitality to others?  Do I give thanks and appreciate the gifts that I have been given?  Do I work hard to have a good life, or do I expect things to be bestowed upon me without effort?  Are these things distractions from what is important, or am I able to maintain a healthy perspective and have my priorities straight?

Although Jeremy and I are extremely different, I enjoy talking with him and am glad to have him back from vacation.  He’s one of those people that challenges me.  He sees through my b.s. and calls me on my contradictions.  He gets me thinking about why I do or believe something.  His questions make me question myself and that sort of self-exploration is good for personal growth.

I have been thinking a lot about my future.  In ten days and ten hours or so, I will have been alive for twenty-five years.  The truth is, I’m still not positive I really know what I want to do with my life.  I know what I get excited about.  I know my passions.  I know what I care about.  But, what am I going to DO with that?  I keep saying that I am going to be a doctor… someday.  I have made many perfectly reasonable and convincing arguments as to why I have not yet gone to medical school.  And, this begs the question… what really is keeping me?  Why do I keep putting it off?  I have had yet another application season go by and have yet to even take the MCAT.  How much more experience do I need before I will consider myself ready?  So now that I will need to wait at least another year after finishing my MPH to enter medical school (and that’s if I get accepted in my first round of applications), I have to figure out what I will do in the meantime.  I have been thinking a lot about various job opportunities, but at this point, I think a two-year stint in the Peace Corps makes the most sense.  One of the limiting factors in my job hunt is that I would need to have a job that pays well enough that I could begin to pay off my student loans.  I’m sure I could find that in the States, but I really want to come back to Africa and spend some more time here being young, enthusiastic, and idealistic.  Two months here in Meheba just hasn’t been enough and the Peace Corps would allow me to extend my experience from this internship into two years… and I would be exempt from having to start paying my loans until I returned to the States.  This seems to not just be the most logical decision, but it’s one I can really get excited about.  The Peace Corps has been on my list of things I want to do in my lifetime for a while now… so why not?  Who says I can’t do everything on that list?  I want to embrace life with both arms and live with gusto.  I don’t want to ever look back on my life with regret… I don’t want to look back and see that moment of hesitation that caused me to miss out on an incredible experience.  The truth is… any of us could die at any moment and I want to be sure I have welcomed each day with enthusiasm and have my head hit the pillow every night deeply satisfied.  I feel sad for people that go through life lost and miserable.  I may be lost a lot, but I’m having the time of my life trying to find my way. J

Day 41 in Zambia

So I have finally had my “I’m not having so much fun here” moment.  I woke up this morning and had to admit that I was indeed SICK.  I’m grumpy enough when I’m sick even with the comforts of home.  My throat hurts, I can’t stop coughing, and my whole body is sore.  When I told Jeremy that I was finally in a bad mood, he observed, “And still, you just chuckled.”  Just because I’m not feeling 100%, doesn’t mean I’m not happy at all.  I guess my cheerful disposition is indefatigable. J  Still, I wanted a hug so badly, I’ve been forcing Chindele to come cuddle with me.  And to think, I didn’t even like cats before coming here. 

Yes, the fact that I feel physically uncomfortable is enough to make me a little more irritable than usual, but mostly I’m frustrated because I still have so much work to do and I need to be running at my top energy level for the next few weeks.  All I did today was a bit of reading and data entry.  Our rockstar FHS staffperson went to Block B without me to do interviews there, so I’m not too much further behind.  I couldn’t help but laught as he said, “But it will be boring without you to talk to!”  I am looking forward to seeing the students tomorrow, but I’m not looking forward to the long ride to Road 6 (uphill too L ).  I just really want to feel like I’ve accomplished something here this summer.  I want to prove my worth.  Even here, I cannot escape that force that keeps driving me to push myself further… demand more.

Day 42 in Zambia

This has really been a rough week.  Not only am I sick (and I HATE being sick) and am frustrated with my lack of productivity because of it, but my emotions also seem to be all over the place.  One minute I’m grumpy and frustrated and then I see this butterfly that is white with bright orange tipped wings and I stop dead in my tracks with a serene smile on my face.  This morning I was feeling discouraged by how little I feel I have accomplished, and by the afternoon I am once again excited about the work that I am doing and the steps that were taken today.  I’m sure the fact that I can practically hear the time ticking down until the day I have to leave isn’t helping my mood.  I’m like a petulant child, screaming in my head “I don’t wanna” and stomping my feet as I pout (the pouting and stomping is also in my head… I have a bit more self-control than a two year old). 

I was thinking today of how often it seems we become (or maybe already are) that which we criticize.  The Westerners that I have come across who are in Africa trying to do some good always seem to be very critical of the arrogance of the Western world (namely America).  We come here idealistic and hopeful, armed with information and opinions from books written by the do-gooders that came before us.  We observe the history of development and aid work in Africa and are determined to do it better.  We talk of empowering refugees and impoverished Africans, sustainable development, and grassroots efforts built on the input and feedback of the communities in which we work.  We look with indignation upon the injustice and prejudices that the West has played a part sustaining.  But I think it’s interesting that although we loathe the arrogance and ignorance we observe in others, we can be blind to our own.  I often see in people I admire for their beliefs and principles, shadows of the very things they speak out against.  I see it in myself as well.  I hate the paternalism that abounds in humanitarian work.  I speak about building change from within and showing respect and dignity for all people.  I believe in the potential of every human being and the incredible things that they are capable of.  And yet, if I examine myself honestly I see that same arrogance in my own actions.  I feel a sense of responsibility for people… a need to care for them.  But, isn’t this really an effort to prove my own prowess and capability?  Doesn’t this demean those same people by implying that they could not possibly take care of themselves?  As I have since I was a child, when I come across anything, I am constantly thinking about ways to make it better.  As I observe imperfections, I make myself believe that somehow I can perfect it (or at least improve it).  I automatically take the lead on a project, hammering out the details and convincing others to follow my vision.  Isn’t this really just echoing the words of that old song “anything you can do I can do better”?  Isn’t my tendency towards leadership roles in some way rooted in a fear of relinquishing control to someone else – a fear that if I don’t do something myself, it might not get done right (i.e. the way I think it should be done)?  I throw myself into my work, not just on behalf of others, but especially during times when I need to feel as if I have accomplished something… to boost my own ego and sense of worth.  As a more concrete example, I automatically change my speech patterns, word choice, and tone of voice when speaking English with Africans.  Heck, I’ve started speaking “Zamblish” even to other Americans from time to time.  I make the assumption that everyone I meet here will only be able to understand slow and simple speech, without even giving them the respect of speaking to them the way I would normally and adjusting based on their individual needs.  Isn’t this just a judgment call about the education and communication skills of someone from another country and with darker skin than me?  Isn’t this still some form of racism and prejudice?  I guess my point is, we can’t escape it.  None of us are the saints our principles can make us believe we are.  Perhaps we are most critical of the ugliness we see in ourselves… those inadvertent slips when our thoughts or actions deviate from what our higher principles tell us is most right. 

The really strange thing is that at the same time that I am contemplating my arrogance, I have been thinking a lot about my insecurities as well.  Humans are such funny creatures – capable of being in two opposing states at the same time.  As strong as my belief that I should be able to do something with incredible competency, I always have the fear that I am incompetent and will fail miserably.  I’ve heard this discussion many times here in Meheba:  ‘refugee’ is a mindset that limits people from pursuing and achieving their potential and refugees must break free from the internalization of that label and see themselves for the powerful people they really are.  I think that maybe I came here limiting myself with my label of ‘intern’.  Yes, I am an intern… this is an internship.  But, this becomes a problem when I begin to think “I am just an intern”.  At that point, I have allowed a label to diminish my worth.  For weeks now I have felt so young and small.  Yes, it is good that I am able to humble myself and be seeking to learn from every situation and every person I come across.  It seems that on a daily basis I am questioning my competency, feeling like a fraud with the trappings of degrees, credentials, and prestigious affiliations.  It wasn’t until this afternoon that I got to thinking and I finally thought to myself…. “Wait.  You are a competent and knowledgeable professional with lots of valuable life experience to pull from.”  It’s as if I suddenly remembered that I have learned something in the last seven years of higher education.  I have had rich experiences with education, research, and employment.  My experiences aren’t just entries on my resume, but with each of those experiences came valuable skills and lessons learned.  At nearly twenty-five I am still young and I have A LOT to learn, but I think that I have still been thinking of myself in the same way that I did when I was seventeen.  As I go through life always eager to learn and grow more, I must also acknowledge what I have learned already.  When I remember that I have gained valuable skills and knowledge, I can actually use them.  And isn’t that the whole point?  By shortchanging myself in my assessment of what I have to offer, it’s like I limit what I actually offer to much less than what I am able to offer.  It is such a struggle to see your own worth with accuracy and clarity.  The pendulum swings wildly from underestimation to overestimation and back again.