Zambia Dirt

Tonight I did something I found both emotional and full of symbolism. 

We just wrapped up our final evening in Kalomo (prior to returning to Livingstone for one evening and then beginning our long trek back to Canada) – although I may be home by the time this reaches you through cyber-space. 

We sat around at dinner and informally shared some of the highlights and emotions from this journey, and had a farewell sharing and prayer time for Breanna, one of our volunteers, who will be remaining in Zambia for several days following our departure working with a Zambian mission that serves orphans in the country.  After completing this time, we then returned to our guest house to start packing.

Once the bags were packed, and then packed again to make sure everything fit (and that we did not think we were going to exceed the baggage weight limit), I decided it would be a good idea to wash my sandals. Given we had walked several miles today, and would soon be travelling in confined spaces where well worn, dirt and sweat caked footwear would not be considered welcome – no matter what experiences came along with them – I decided I would wear mine into the shower and soap them down well so that they’d be fresh for the hours on the plane.

Well, there was no question that that soil of Zambia had attached itself to these well-used sandals.  As I scrubbed them, and saw the dirt run off of the shoe and down the drain, I could not help but feel a little…well, sad.

This soil is the soil where I met our sponsored child, Chipo, and her dancing grandmother.  This soil is the soil where I had opportunity to see how education was making a different through the World Vision schools.  It is the soil where I first had my ‘aha’ moment as I heard about how a simple Medical Clinic can save hundreds – and thousands – of lives.  It has collected on my shoes as I have walked through the market, said ‘Mulli Butti’ in about a thousand ways except the correct way.  It is the dirt from the goat farm.  The dirt from Patricia’s home.  It is the soil that millions of Zambian’s have walked on throughout time, determined to overcome the challenges they face.

And there it goes, down the drain.

I stop and think about this for a moment.  I consider myself so blessed to have walked this soil.  To have stood on the land of many being positively affected by the work the organization I am part of – World Vision.  To have shared it with our colleagues in the World Vision Kalomo Area Development Project.  To have been blessed to have witnessed so many things on it that will not leave my heart or my soul.

I pause, and recognize that this is part of the transition to the world I know, the one with great people who are so willing to step forward to help when needed.  The world where we have our own ‘version’ of poverty.  The world where we have the resources to actually DO SOMETHING about this (and I find that exciting!!).  The world that I hope to be part of changing –even ever so slightly – so that people like those we have met in Zambia can have a future that is filled with hope, health and God’s love.

I have inhaled the dust of this beautiful country, and long for the day that I am able to return to the dust that I am now washing off by shoes.  I don’t know if – or when – that could happen, but I know my heart will return here often.

 Mucaale Kaboto (Good bye), Zambia.

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