April 8, 2017
After leaving on Sunday morning from Charlotte, I finally reached Mukinge Mission station on Thursday afternoon. It's no wonder that even going to a place for a month, visiting folks like me are referred to as "short-termers." More on that in a bit—but first a little about my journey here!
I had the opportunity to visit Dubai on my long layer, and I found that opulence and impeccable service were the norm of this global city. My Ethiopian taxi driver—I had accidentally hailed a pink women's only taxi but this gave me an opportunity to hear about life from a female local—was living alone in Dubai, sending money back to her husband and daughter in Ethiopia; while she didn't like the cost of living in Dubai, she raved about the safety of the city. Another male taxi driver was also sending money back for his wife and daughters in Kerala, India, and contrasted the relatively relaxed Islamic culture in Dubai to the conservative Saudi Arabia, where he previously drove a truck. Dubai was full of glassy skyscrapers and clean streets, with hotels and shopping malls packed with Arab, Indian, Asian, and Western tourists. In the massive Dubai Mall, women in black hijabs shopped alongside women in heels and fashion pantsuits, and men wore attire ranging from t-shirts to traditional white robes and headpieces. From this luxurious place, where it's easier to find a 5 star hotel than a 2 star and where manmade islands with white sand beaches and high-rises line the coast, it seemed crazy to imagine that my next flight would bring me to a place where the average life expectancy is 52 and children still die from malnutrition.
Time is a precious resource in the West, and we focus on efficiency in all things. Yet, time is in abundance in the developing world, and to some extent, you must let go of time as a visitor—I spent 36 hours in the capital of Lusaka, accomplishing some administrative tasks and waiting for a flight. I was grateful for the company and conservation of three long term missionaries, who had settled here decades ago and raised their own children in Zambia. I tagged along for errands, delivered care packages I'd carried over from the States, and was given other deliveries for the Mukinge missionaries. As mail is limited and of questionable reliability, one of the true helpful aspects of short term volunteers like myself are as a defacto courier service!
I flew 1 hour northwest to the town of Sowezi over a pastoral countryside of green and rural Zambia and was picked up by two of the missionaries. We spent the day running errands and ducking into stands and shops on Sowezi's dusty main street, and then set off on a two hour drive to the hilly middle of now, Mukinge Mission Station, where the tarmac ends just past Kasempe.
I'll leave you with some pictures of my journey to Mukinge. From Dubai's glittering towers to Sowezi's dusty tribute to capitalism. One of the quiet moments of awe I had so far this trip was the window seat on the flight from Dubai (United Arab Emirates) to Lusaka, Zambia. This flight took me over the desert of the Arabian peninsula, down along the gorgeous, deserted, and rugged beaches of Oman and Somalia (they stayed away from the coast over Yemen, not too surprising), and along the cloud shrouded rainforests of North-central Africa. Especially in the United States, we forget how big this world is – and how small we truly are. As my Emirates airbus powered on to Zambia, I looked down on some little perfect set of islands, seemingly untouched by the world; much needed perspective from my American surgical bubble.
After leaving on Sunday morning from Charlotte, I finally reached Mukinge Mission station on Thursday afternoon. It's no wonder that even going to a place for a month, visiting folks like me are referred to as "short-termers." More on that in a bit—but first a little about my journey here!
I had the opportunity to visit Dubai on my long layer, and I found that opulence and impeccable service were the norm of this global city. My Ethiopian taxi driver—I had accidentally hailed a pink women's only taxi but this gave me an opportunity to hear about life from a female local—was living alone in Dubai, sending money back to her husband and daughter in Ethiopia; while she didn't like the cost of living in Dubai, she raved about the safety of the city. Another male taxi driver was also sending money back for his wife and daughters in Kerala, India, and contrasted the relatively relaxed Islamic culture in Dubai to the conservative Saudi Arabia, where he previously drove a truck. Dubai was full of glassy skyscrapers and clean streets, with hotels and shopping malls packed with Arab, Indian, Asian, and Western tourists. In the massive Dubai Mall, women in black hijabs shopped alongside women in heels and fashion pantsuits, and men wore attire ranging from t-shirts to traditional white robes and headpieces. From this luxurious place, where it's easier to find a 5 star hotel than a 2 star and where manmade islands with white sand beaches and high-rises line the coast, it seemed crazy to imagine that my next flight would bring me to a place where the average life expectancy is 52 and children still die from malnutrition.
Time is a precious resource in the West, and we focus on efficiency in all things. Yet, time is in abundance in the developing world, and to some extent, you must let go of time as a visitor—I spent 36 hours in the capital of Lusaka, accomplishing some administrative tasks and waiting for a flight. I was grateful for the company and conservation of three long term missionaries, who had settled here decades ago and raised their own children in Zambia. I tagged along for errands, delivered care packages I'd carried over from the States, and was given other deliveries for the Mukinge missionaries. As mail is limited and of questionable reliability, one of the true helpful aspects of short term volunteers like myself are as a defacto courier service!
I flew 1 hour northwest to the town of Sowezi over a pastoral countryside of green and rural Zambia and was picked up by two of the missionaries. We spent the day running errands and ducking into stands and shops on Sowezi's dusty main street, and then set off on a two hour drive to the hilly middle of now, Mukinge Mission Station, where the tarmac ends just past Kasempe.
I'll leave you with some pictures of my journey to Mukinge. From Dubai's glittering towers to Sowezi's dusty tribute to capitalism. One of the quiet moments of awe I had so far this trip was the window seat on the flight from Dubai (United Arab Emirates) to Lusaka, Zambia. This flight took me over the desert of the Arabian peninsula, down along the gorgeous, deserted, and rugged beaches of Oman and Somalia (they stayed away from the coast over Yemen, not too surprising), and along the cloud shrouded rainforests of North-central Africa. Especially in the United States, we forget how big this world is – and how small we truly are. As my Emirates airbus powered on to Zambia, I looked down on some little perfect set of islands, seemingly untouched by the world; much needed perspective from my American surgical bubble.
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