Reaching out

The holidays always seem like a time that you shouldn't be away from family. You should be tucked up in your childhood bed, with a cup of coffee and a book. When you're a million miles away (in space and context) you create family wherever you are. In keeping with this, I've been writing emails and cards instead of blogging, preferring the connection of home to the mass format. It's funny to think about what family means in my home, when I live in a country where the concept of family means something else entirely. In Zambia, the extended family, the power of blood, is of the utmost importance. Here, your fortune means your family's fortune, and children are the shared responsibility of the aunts and uncles, even grandparents, who are as equal authorities in the upbringing as the parents are.

In my little world, however, everyone is just about as independent from their families as it comes in the West. Those who choose a life abroad aren't exactly the type of people who are afraid of the world beyond their front doors. Moreover, the transitory nature of Lusaka, a virtual revolving door of young faces, means you are constantly forming bonds and saying goodbyes. It's an interesting place to be for the holidays.
So, wishing a big happy Christmas to my loved ones in America, and to my Lusaka family alike.