And so it ends

It's off to the US of A tomorrow. I'll be returning to a place that is very different from the one I left. Saturday will be what would have been my med school graduation (four years, already?), and I'll be sitting in the bleachers. I am going to pick up my things from my old home, and will have to find a new one. Still, I look forward to seeing friends and family and to paying tribute the best of the northwest (microbrews, cheese, and camping). As I get ready to go back to a life that will be both familiar and strange, I worry that Africa's going to slip out of my system faster than I want it to. It's easy to forget how people live here, being constantly on your toes, seeing things in more vibrant shades, your good friends, the adventures and stories you shared. I hope I really have learned something, and that what I have seen and done leaves its mark on me.

So, to say goodbye, this is my homage to Africa...

Sunset on the lower Zambezi river

Zambian kids makin' some tunes

Namibian sand dunes

Elephant crossing

Little girl

Trees in bloom in Lusaka

The Kafue river

And of course... my favorite people in Zambia

Coming full circle: Five things I learned

My time in Africa is coming to an end. I will carry away so much from this year. It’s been a long journey, and I am indebted to this program, to Zambia, and the people I’ve met along the way for the lessons I was able to learn.

The greatest thing I have learned is that life is very, very short. That we don’t have much time, and whatever we think lies ahead could change quickly. Do what you love, keep your eyes wide open, and let yourself experience fully whatever comes your way.

Secondly, I have learned to have greater patience. There is a time to let things sit, and there is a time to act.

Third, I have learned to be thankful. To not waste opportunities, nor to minimize the things I have and the people who are in my life.

Fourth, I have learned more about respecting others. That doing things differently doesn’t mean doing them wrong, and to observe first and judge second. 

Lastly, I have learned to love Africa in a way I never expected. To appreciate a place that dances with its feet while packing a punch in its hand. It’s not an easy or simple place, and things are rarely as they seem, but it has a spice that can be addicting.

Value of a dollar

     When does a dollar not equal a dollar? When you live in a place where the majority of the population lives on a dollar a day. Think about that - we spend, what, $600 a month on rent, $150 on food, $50 on gas, maybe a $30 haircut every now and then? That's about $30 a day, just living like a normal 20-something American. Now think about a place where 97% of the rural population doesn't have electricity, 85% have dirt floors and palm thatch roofs, and almost half use a bike as their main transport? You ever think your apartment seems barren? Half of the rural population have a bed, and less than half have a chair. I looked around my house recently, thinking of all the things I would be leaving behind when I left Africa. My dirty, ripped-up, five-year-old tennis shoes, with two holes in the toes and duct tape holding together the heels? Those would be gold to somebody. My stained tee-shirt? Years of wear left. That extra bottle of vitamins? Okay, I bet those have no value as they're probably too weird to a Zambian to even be of use.
     You get the point. I'll be heading back to a place where I can get peaches year-round, coffee imported from Jamaica, designer shoes, and the newest electronics at the touch of a button. I will never go hungry, my feet will never get calloused from years without shoes, and I won't ever have to choose between educating my children or paying rent. I'll be the first to admit I'm absolutely salivating at the thought of the sushi and good beer that awaits me, and I may or may not have already ordered a pair of jeans on JCrew, but I doubt I'll ever look at dollar bill again without seeing the inequalities that are hidden behind Georgie's little smile. Yes, it's a mad, mad world we live in.

By the way, all the stats are from the Zambian Demographic Health Survey, 2007, available online. The numbers paint a fascinating portrait. For instance, 34% of teens 15-17 years old are orphaned or vulnerable, 21% of women who work report their husbands make the all the decisions about their earnings, and 47% of women have have ever experienced physical violence as adults. Interesting.

Reading Anna Karenina in Lusaka

Tolstoy probably wasn’t expecting his work to be read in an African town of dusty roads and tooting minibuses, but here I am, halfway through the tome. The main story line of Anna K. revolves around her extramarital affair with another man. It’s hard to draw many parallels between late 19^th century Russians and modern-day Zambians, but both seem to be places that are outwardly obsessed with protocol and propriety, where wearing an improper skirt can create a stir or where telling someone you don’t attend church is like telling them you eat babies for breakfast. However, despite these formal exterior, marrying and keeping a dish or two on the side (for both sexes) is par for the course, though the attitudes around it are very different. One of my Zambian colleagues just laughed when we were talking about it, “ah, yes, it’s normal! Maybe 80% of us do that!” And here we are, in a country where there was a letter in the newspaper the Post about how cohabitation before marriage is going to be the downfall of modern society. Anna is driven slowly crazy by her guilt, but her sense of shame would have been totally out of place in this region in Africa.  What is so strange about all of this is the HIV rate, that turns what could simply a different definition of fidelity into a very real threat to an unsuspecting partner. If commercial sex workers have an HIV rate of over 60% here in Lusaka, and the general populace has a rate of around 20%, then sleeping around becomes… well, like Russian roulette.  The fictional Russians at least didn’t have to deal with that. I guess the meaning of "forever" takes on a little bit of a different meaning when the life expectancy is only a few decades or when you're hardly more than a child yourself when you say those words. It's just an interesting phenomenon to me, the contradiction that so many people seem content with here. Maybe it has to be that way - we don't have any functioning train tracks here to throw ourselves upon if it all gets too much.