BLESSINGS

I often hear, "I am reminded that I am so blessed" in reference to an experience in a developing country. That comment has started to bother me. It has been a little while now that something about that graded on my nerves as I heard it. Finally, I was able to process it out with Joe today.
"I am blessed"= air conditioner, unlimited amount of food, TV, and a nice house. When we say we are blessed we are basing our blessings on material things. That is a shame. Granted, we would be ignorant not to recognize that we have more and our more makes things easier a lot of times. However, looking only at material blessings ignores what truly enrich our lives.
As Joe mentioned, slowing down our lives like is often done here can create positive relationships. I have been able to build relationships with people here because of the slowed down lifestyle. That is hard for us to recognize as a blessing.

Also, as one of the missionaries mentioned the people are more likely to feel dependent on God because they do not have 401 (k) plans and as structured life styles. This environment provides a context to develop a trust in God we are unable to develop.

I suppose what I am trying to say is spiritual blessings are what should be placed as most important in our lives. Measuring how we are blessed because we have more material things removes us from recognizing what is truly important in life.

Packing Trunks

Today was a day of preparation as we packed trunks with medications, packed food supplies, and inventoried cooking equipment. We now sit and wait for the container and the main group to arrive. We are ahead of last year in having all the medical trunks marked, thanks to the work of Mike Murphy and the early team (Charlotte Bradsher & Linda Myers).

I still have just a few things to complete like exchanging kwacha, picking up bowls, and final food items. As usual, everything is on Zambian time.

Does the rest of the world operate on a different time management system than the United States. Are we to clock and time conscious? In Zambia, everything is truly Zambian. There is Zam-Chick, Zam-Beef, and most of Zam-Time. What is Zam-Time you ask?

It appears that in Zambia nothing has to be on time and nobody has to be on schedule. An activity begins when everyone arrives. If you are told to come back tomorrow that means come back in several days. If they say it be ready today that means it will be ready tomorrow. If they tell they don't know when it is going to be ready, that means look out you are in for a long wait.

Is that irresponsible on the part of Zambians? Maybe yes or maybe no! In America we are so time conscious that we have express lanes and fast food, drive thru banking and Post Office drop boxes, and of live in a world of lonely and detached people.

Could drive thru windows and home delivery have led to less and less personal touch and communication? I think, you bet it has! If I go in the bank, I meet people and talk to people and establish on-going friendships and relationships. If I go in the restaurant, I slow down, talk to people, identifying and appreciating humanity. No man is an island.

We are so busy that we have no time for each other. Today I was unloading a container, Nepa (a Zambian) happened by the work. He stopped and talked with Justin and me for several minutes. One of the things I really love about Zambians is they always have time for people. They don't watch the clock or worry about the time. They will always have time for YOU....

Maybe there are some things we can learn from our Zambian friends!!!!

building materials

Today, my time was spent finding,loading and delivering building materials for both the new chicken house and the new grocery store. Both are ready for concrete slabs. In the US I would have measured the area to be covered,used a ratio to determine the amount needed and called the cement company who would then schedule delivery. I could charge it or pay upon delivery. I have done this, so to see and experience the Zambian way was quite an experience.

It started by Paul the foreman looking the areas over for a short time and determining the amount needed. When I asked him his method he said..."I just know." The grade was set. We set out in the flat bed to purchase stones. He asked that I drive the truck and reminded me with a grin that the drivers were on the opposite side of the road in Zambia than US. I knew that, but I appreciated the reminder. I had to be safe. I was in a foreign country in someone's vehicle with 8 men standing or riding beside me.

We drove to a compound were the poorest of the poor live.We drove right up among the shacks to a pile of crushed rocks. I backed up beside the pile and the workers began shoveling stones into a wheel barrow. They counted the number of loads knowing our truck would only carry approximately 25.Each wheel barrow cost 5 thousand kwatcha ($1.25 US).These rocks were crushed from larger rocks by hand. People sit all day and crush rocks dug up in their community often close to the side of the road for others to purchase.

We purchsed about $30 worth of stones to carry back to the chicken run. We made two trips. The last load was purchased at another compound and we unloaded it for the slab at the new store. These stones will be mixed with sand (on site) and bags of cement. This is all done by hand on the ground and wheel barrows transport it to the foundation. All day when something was said in their language I asked what was said. I learned of their methods in family matters as well as life in general. We laughed and talked serious.

There was concern over a man that had died today in one of the compounds we purchased stones. He was ninety years old. The talk among the men was over this man and his magic powers. He could apparently point to a woman that was pregnant and make her miscarriage.

They were glad he had died. He was evil. His group of other evil men had caused trouble for years. Later that day one of our workers said the man was still alive but had turned into a cat then later a dog. I told them I did not believe. They said the same man had made an American go back to America by making him go into a hut....step through a door.....and when he came out he was in America. I told them I did not believe that either.

Again a great day in Zambia learning of another culture far from home.