Settling In

When I was perhaps four or five years old someone taught me the indelicacy of staring. With this enlightened understanding of etiquette I began to wonder at all the rude adults around me, who seemed to shamelessly stare at my own presence. On one occasion I even returned the gaze of a particularly focused onlooker and, with all the ridiculous authority of barely more than a toddler, exclaimed,  “What are you staring at?”

Every day of these past weeks I have found myself the object of unabashed staring. And in turn I cannot help but recall that lesson from early childhood. Unfortunately, at my present age and in this particular culture, I’m not at liberty to respond with such open admonishment. Rather, in Zambia it is not considered inappropriate to even gawk at things, which are out-of-the-ordinary. And in this country my pale skin, frizzy curls, REI backpack and BPA-free reusable water bottle are exceptionally out-of-the-ordinary. In response most natives are quietly transfixed for a few long seconds when I pass into and out of their sight, but the children are completely beside themselves when they see me. The children, filled with all the confidence and none of the inhibition, love to clamor. Troops of students walking home from school alternately stare, huddle and giggle. And littlest ones call out guesses at where I might have come from. Most recently, as my taxi was passing through a rural suburban village, a few enthusiastic toddlers called out, “China, China!” as they ran alongside the car. My driver informed me kindly, if unnecessarily, the kids thought I was Chinese. Later that same afternoon my driver asked what I missed about home. I miss feeling like I belong.

However, I have finally settled into this place. Not the kind of settling that suggests unpacking of things and adjusting to time-changes, but I’m referring to an emotional peace that recently washed over me. At some point this past week I seemed to let go of go of my struggle against this change. Since then I’ve relaxed into living here and discovered I can and do belong. I’ve nested into the idyllic calm of my Zambian bedroom, and arranged my hospital office until it became distinctly my own. Additionally, and after many weekly Skype chats and weekend blog postings, I also discovered a handful of Internet spots and favorite café’s, where I’ve earned familiarity and a warm welcome. Apart from all the ways this country and culture continues to feel foreign, I have found rest.

So, it is equipped with this refreshed grace that I embark upon the second half of my journey. Surely it will be filled with many more trying and triumphant days. You can depend upon an account of those days to come. In the meantime, thank you for listening. The ever-engaged support you have all shown has encouraged and inspired me endlessly.

May each of you also find rest this week and always.

With love,

Jess