The Little Things

In their own way, each section of the clinic was busy. Check-in was chaotic but well organized, despite the never-ending line that always seemed to go on for miles. The nurses station where everyone went for height, weight, and temperature measurements could perhaps be better called the zoo. However, I'd be hard pressed to recall a time when I looked over that Pete and Hattie didn't have huge smiles on their faces as they worked steadily to get everyone through. The doctors and nurses saw a constant stream of patients with a variety of illnesses; they never seemed to take a break, greeting the next patient with a smile as big as the last. To me, it was the pharmacy however, that always seemed the busiest. No matter what time of day it was or how fast the prescriptions were filled, the lines seemed to grow exponentially with each passing second.




Interacting with the kids that came through the clinic was key to both their happiness and ours. Hundreds of moments from our trip pop into my mind almost immediately when I think of our interactions with the communities in which we worked, however I will keep my list to just a few:

Katherine, with a giant grin on her face and her stethoscope in a toddler's ears, facing a little boy whose facial expression was one of excitement and absolute wonder as he listened to her steady heartbeat.

Julia, cradling a feverish baby in her arms to give her medicine that would hopefully bring her temperature back down. The little girl lying their calmly took the medicine like a champ, despite its atrocious taste.

Will, surrounded by a mob of children as he patiently took their pictures and between shots turning the camera around for them to inspect his work. Their smiles as they saw their images captured on that screen were accompanied by infectious bursts of laughter.

In the pharmacy however, our interactions were limited due to the workbench that separated us from the patients and the massive line that never seemed to end. In addition, the necessity of a translator left us searching for other ways to find meaning in our short time with the kids. The tentative smiles that we were often greeted with in the first few seconds soon turned into full blown grins that lacked the initial timidity and caution as they watched us work and enjoyed their almost finished dum-dums. While the grins and expressive eyes would make my heart soar as I fell more and more in love with this place and these people, my favorite part was undoubtedly reading the cards. More specifically, the names the cards held.

It was like a treasure hunt - you never knew what the next card would hold or the surprise you would find when reaching out to a new kid. Names were special for the four of us in the pharmacy. They were something to smile about individually as we churned out bags of medicines; they were something to lightly elbow your neighbor and share; and they were something that could bring our carefully organized operation to a halt in mere seconds as Kim would sigh, smile, and then exclaim, "it's an Owen!!" These names were not like ones we see here in the States - we were in the presence of many Blessings, Innocences, and even a few Mapanzis (or Trouble, as my interpreter would later tell me). The names made us laugh; they made us smile; they made us miss home; and most of all, they made us grow closer to every person that we saw.

With the most boxes to unpack at the beginning of each day, and again the most stuff to put away at the end after the last patient had made it through our station, the pharmacy group had limited time to simply play with the kids and just enjoy being with them. We all caught on rather quickly to this fact and realized that this would become the norm for the extent of our work. We soon learned to cherish the little moments throughout the day. Yes, the big, exciting things - getting to see zebras and elephants and giraffes on the safari, crossing into Zimbabwe to visit Victoria Falls, watching the bore hole dedications give whole communities fresh, clean water to drink - were both amazing and essential to the African experience, but it was the little things - the kids smiles, the stories shared by community members and our hosts, Grimace on the bumpy dirt road to Mapanza, the nightly Scrabble games - that absolutely made the trip for me.

Cheryl Boone

Community

“Do you know where Rebecca Street is?” the driver asked as she slowed down. “No” I replied – “is there another street name that you can give me?” “Piney Plains” was her response. “Ok - go back the way you came – Piney Plains turns into Lochmere Drive – the street you are looking for should be back the other way.” In a few minutes another vehicle pulled over as I walked my dog down the sidewalk “have you seen a big red dog?” “No, but I just started my walk; I’ll be on the look out for it.” What a great feeling it is to be back in the security of my community and to help someone that is lost or in need! And while I’ve had time to reflect daily on my second mission trip to Zambia, God is still revealing much to me as evidenced during my morning walk. There have been lots of hugs and well wishes from those in my communities – at church, my gym and my neighbors. As I was meditating during my walk, thoughts of community, helping others and Africa kept coming back.

Community is something that was often discussed during our evening devotions – we talked about the sense of community and how the community is involved in raising these children. Community was something that we experienced everyday – among our team, among the hotel staff, among our local volunteers and among the children that we served. We witnessed a church community worshipping and praising God at St. John the Evangelist Anglican Church in Choma where they are in the midst of a rebuilding project. The sign posted on the wall behind their altar ends: “Remember: The Lord says it is more Blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35)”. There is a great sense of community here as they worship – there is little seating other than the concrete floor, the altars where they kneel for communion or prayer do not have cushions, but they worship and praise the same God that created all of us in His image. Christ is their Savior too! As you held a joint Sunday school class on Celebration of Worship – we were privileged to be part of a three hour celebration of worship in Choma.

My thoughts go back to the first few days of our trip where we served the orphans of Misisi. Every child is beautiful here with an outward glow that will take your breath away! They can capture your heart with a smile; this time it was the little girl in the purple dress.

I was struck again by their friendly nature and their playfulness; they are fed and loved with the help of ZOE Ministry and local volunteers. Fr. Emmanuel Yona Chikoya is the Parish Priest. He was a familiar face and prayed for us again as he had in 2007. The 2009 Theme printed on his card is “Arise, Step Forward in faith”. The community of Misisi exhibits a profound faith in the midst of few material possessions – a small number of children have shoes and most only own the soiled clothes that they wear over and over again.

There was a great outpouring of community during the Friday of our journey as we were privileged to witness two bore hole (well) dedications. These bore holes were partially made possible by donations from Garber UMC in New Bern. Bishop David Njovu, Bishop of the Anglican Diocese of Lusaka, had planned for the dedications to take place while we were there saying that “it will be good for us that the team witnesses the hand over.” Our team was greeted with hugs and thanks after these ceremonies where the entire communities came together to rejoice and give thanks for the gift of clean water.

During our last morning devotion as we gathered for our final meal before heading to the airport, we asked Farai, Monica and Norah to share some of their thoughts with us. Farai (ZOE Ministry – Zimbabwe) talked about the hope that we are giving these children. Monica (Anglican Church host) called us disciples and shared what the word hope stands for as she unselfishly cares for those in her community living with HIV/AIDS – Helping Other People Emerge. Norah (Anglican Church host) reminded us that love can conquer anything and blessed us by calling us “family”. What a gift to be a part of God’s community, not only at Hayes Barton UMC, but also of the world.

So much has been revealed to me during this trip; I have been richly blessed by the experience. Even though there is much work to be done, the light is shining brighter than I had expected. Although we did not have an assigned “spiritual leader” for our team, we relied on each other – our community of believers and on Father, Son and Holy Spirit. As Priest Chikoya mentioned several times while we were in Misisi “we believe in peace” let us remember to offer peace and support in our relationships – let us build community, not division. Help us remember that we should do all things to the Glory of God in a loving, caring spirit while building up our communities here and around the world. THANK YOU to our HBUMC community; we are grateful for those that provided encouragement, prayers, transportation to the airport and support along the way. THANK YOU for your gift of prayer while we were away; for the stickers, toys and candy for the children, and for the financial support to make our trip possible. May you also be richly blessed by our journey.

Lori Constantino

Living Water

Until I went to Africa, I don't think I ever really understood the importance of such a simple thing and one I know I and many others take for granted: water. Water is our lifeblood in so many ways - to bathe, cook, wash clothes, and of course most importantly, to drink. The Bible refers to water as "living water" seven different times in the Old and New Testaments, something significant to me. I did have to look that number up as I am most definitely not a Biblical scholar but throughout our experiences with water in Africa, the phrase living water kept making its way into my head.

On Friday, July 10, instead of running a medical clinic as we had for the past two days we instead were privileged to be a part of two borehole dedication ceremonies at schools near the little town of Mapanza. Our first journey up to Mapanza was also our first trip of what would be quite a few, up a pretty difficult dirt road. It took about three hours for us to get there and when we arrived, the entire local community had turned out for the event. A borehole, for those who are wondering, is basically a well. But not just any well - a borehole is a deep well drilled into the ground that brings fresh and most importantly, clean and safe, water to the surface. These wells are not inexpensive to build - each boreholes costs about $5000 US dollars. This sum is fairly insurmountable for an African community to raise so they are reliant on local governments and organizations like Zoe Ministries for help. But, they are a reliable way to provide clean water to rural communities. Both of these new boreholes were donated by a Methodist church in New Bern and it was quite simply amazing what a big deal these new wells were. We saw many illnesses caused by unsafe water - parasites, worms, all sorts of things - but for me, it wasn't until I was a part of this celebration of water that it was clear what a difference these boreholes will make in these communities.

During each ceremony groups of children and teenagers danced and sang and we listened to numerous speeches by political and religious leaders alike, expounding on the significance of the boreholes to each school community and also occasionally throwing in some politics. The Anglican bishop even made the long trek out to Mapanza for these important events. Each ceremony was capped off by a ribbon cutting and first official pumping of the new water.

This post was originally written the night we returned from Mapanza after being a part of these ceremonies but unfortunately the Internet ate it and we couldn't restore the original posting. My journal helped some in recreating the event but I know I've left out details. However, my feelings about what we saw are still very clear: We take our water for granted. We turn on our faucets or our showers and clean, safe water comes out in abundance. It's something most people in the US don't ever think about unless something goes wrong because clean, safe drinking water is the norm. Watching the people of Mapanza dance, sing and celebrate over water was remarkable, sobering, and an amazing joyous celebration of life itself, because life cannot exist without water.

Erin Berry

All in a Name

There was one thing in particular that stuck out to me while we were in Zambia, and it was the unique names. I found myself really excited what name was next so I wrote a bunch of them down. Here are some that really stuck out the most to me for various reasons:

Fallen, Amos, Band, Fanny, Lilian, Fred, Hildah, Agness, Ester, Owen, Nelly, Polite, Lonely, Memory, Candy, Vain, Obvious, Moisture, Joint, Fortune, Perpetual, Gilbert, Oscar, Chawanzi, Juliet, Judge, Titus, Active, Rainford, Gloria, Pretty, Action, Euporia, Chipo, Bright, Felon, Happiness, Green, and Manfred.

Pete Walter

African Scrabble

You could call it an impulse buy, but then again you could say that about anything you buy (other than food) at an airport shop. We’ll ignore the emergency buy on the way back home such as flowers or souvenirs needed for expectant friends or family that you forgot about when you visited the exotic marketplace. In actuality, this was a sought-after purchase that took two trips to the “Travel Store” at Dulles to finally ask the right salesperson who knew that a new shipment had just arrived. I think Kim actually bought it but it remained in possession of the “Guardian” throughout the trip much like the Ark of the Covenant remained with the Levites. Our Levite was Pete. He was ordained by family heritage since it is rumored that Scrabble was either invented by a Walter or taken to such an ethereal level by their family play that its essence is woven into their DNA. The Walters know Scrabble. So, it was only natural that Pete was entrusted with guarding the Travel Scrabble and, along with Hattie, interpreting rules. Various of us played each night after devotion, but the core group was Pete, Hattie, Kim, Katherine, Cheryl, Will and me. Sometimes we played partners and sometimes solo, but no one really dominated (although I will admit Cheryl spanked me three times in a row on the flight home). I’m in love with the game again but, more importantly, I love my missions family.

In life, as in Scrabble, simple words can be worth a lot especially if they’re used in the appropriate place. They can cut and they can heal; they can illuminate and they can confound; they can make you laugh and they can make you cry. Certain words that were uttered on this African mission will conjure a different meaning to most of us who went—words like “taffy”, "gink", “rude” and “squatty” (you’ll have to ask someone who went on the trip for explanations). I even smile when I type them. Nonetheless, here are some words (and their Scrabble value sans Double/Triple Letter or Word Scores) that now contain African meaning to me:

Water (8 points)
A reliable source of clean water is the first necessity for a healthy community. Just watch “Survivorman”. Wars have been fought over water, the Israelites argued over lack of it during the Exodus and the whole Bible is full of references to water as a source of life. It’s symbolism in baptism speaks to the life that water supports. The children of Zambia suffer for lack of clean water even in the capital city slums called Misisi. Although the city has highly chlorinated tap water, the people in Misisi (a short walk from opulent embassies) must hike to cisterns where water is cached for them. Zoe has provided the pipes and equipment to pipe the water to the Anglican Church in Misisi where we provided medical care, but the morass of underground pipes has made digging a political nightmare. The people in the villages fair even worse since carrying water from a distant borehole well is exhausting. Bathing in the streams can lead to infection with schistosome parasites. It’s no wonder the two boreholes that Zoe provided were celebrated with such pomp and circumstance.

Malaria (9 points)
Despite what our tour guide said, the water buffalo doesn’t kill more people than any other animal—the mosquito does. The Anglican Church helps to provide bed netting and treatment of netting to protect Zambians but the mosquitoes in Zambia are stealth-like ultra light assassins that prey on small children. Even Pete went mano-a-sqito with one inside his netting one night but ended up with 3 wounds. Unlike Pete, the Zambian children don’t take Malarone to prevent infection, they suffer the recurrent high fevers and possible organ damage unless they see a clinic or mission team like ours.

Journey (17 points)
I’ve heard Rick talk about enjoying the journey and, to me, this mission was foremost a psalm to the spirit of God in Africa and in each of our mission members. Of course, we did some good with our medical care for the children of Zambia, but I realize that the parasites and malaria and ringworm may return; nonetheless those illnesses don’t diminish the faith (11 points) that I saw in the church at Choma; those illnesses can’t destroy the hope (9 points) that this mission provided to the children in Misisi or the village schools near Mapanza. Most importantly those illnesses can’t destroy the love (7 points) that I saw in those beautiful, smiling, brown-eyed children or felt emanating from the white skinned missionaries from Hayes Barton. We became a family in Africa. Zoe (12 points) means “life-giving” but to me, it meant “love-giving” to both Zambia, to my mission family and to me.

Oh, and by the way Cheryl, “savvy” has 2 Vs, not 1! Gink?

Robert Littleton

Raphael

It happened so innocently – it started with a casual conversation about Mr. K – our bus driver from our previous trip to Zambia. Those of us that were coming back to Zambia already had a connection with Mr. K; Constance (our 2007 host) had indicated in correspondence that Mr. K would be our driver again. Several days into our trip, Mr. K came to our clinic in Misisi for treatment and I assumed that he would be taking over as our driver for the duration of the trip.

But as we left for Choma, the same young man that had been our driver was at the wheel again. It was several more days before I learned his name - it was Raphael. There were so many details to work out each day that learning the name of our driver didn’t seem to be that important. So on the last Wednesday of our trip as we headed to Victoria Falls to witness and experience the magnificence of God’s creation, I began to chat with Norah and Monica – our 2009 hosts. Norah sat beside of me; Monica was across the aisle.

I asked Norah if Raphael had driven for the Anglican Church before. "No," she replied. "The bus that Mr. K drives is being worked on; we found out only a few days before we were to arrive that the bus was not going to be ready. So at the last minute, we hired Raphael to drive his bus." (Raphael's purple bus, later aptly named Grimace, endured 2 weeks of intense abuse delivered by the unforgiving Zambian roads and delivered us, against all odds, unscathed to the Livingston airport).

Our conversation continued, and I joked with Nora saying “I guess he didn’t know what he was getting himself into” as I thought of how we communicated with him by yelling so that he could hear us over the roar of the bumpy ride and constantly asked him to close his window to keep the dust out.

We spent a lot of time talking with Monica, Norah and Farai each day, but Raphael’s English was not as polished as the others; communicating with him took more time and effort. He attended devotionals with the other ZOE staff and could be seen quietly picking at his food, rarely looking up as we shared our experiences and sobbed together. I had viewed his shy, quiet manner to mean that he was just there to do his job and that he didn’t want to become any more connected to us than the job required.

What Norah said next came as a surprise – "No, he didn't quite know what he was getting himself into," she said. Then she asked Monica to share something that Raphael told her and it is a statement I will never forget: “This team is turning me to God.”

I felt a chill over my body as her words began to sink in. As tears began to trickle down my face, Norah said “You don’t have to preach with words – you can do it by your actions.”

Norah went on to say that Raphael had been watching how we treated the children; he had been a witness to our love, care and compassion – to our smiles and laughter. Through my tears, the only response I could give Norah was a simple "Wow" as I told her that this was making me cry!

So, God in His infinite wisdom knew that Raphael needed to be with our team instead of Mr. K. What a lesson for me to trust God as I had wondered why Mr. K. wasn’t with us. As written in Isaiah 55:8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.” Thanks be to God for the seed that has been planted in Raphael and for the transformation that has already begun.

Lori Constantino

Homeward Bound

We have started our journey back to the US and are currently in Johannesburg awaiting our next flight. Internet access has been near impossible this past week, and we apologize for the lack of posting to keep everyone updated. While what we have seen and heard here in Zambia is beyond difficult to put into words, we hope that everyone back at home has been able to get a small glimpse of the amazing experiences we have been priviledged to be a part of over the past 10 days. We plan to continue updating the blog with more stories from our work and travels in the upcoming days.

Thanks for all the prayers and thoughts from everyone throughout our time here in Zambia. Please continue to pray for our safe travels back home, and we look forward to seeing everyone again soon.