Ciarán O’Rourke writes: In early March this year, a team of twenty from Gonzaga College travelled on a house-building trip to Zambia, where they spent nineteen days living and working with the native people. Having spent the previous five months fundraising and preparing for the trip, all involved had their own expectations on leaving. Many of us on applying for the trip, wished to see Africa, to experience a new culture and most of all ‘to help’ or ‘to make a difference’. However none of us understood fully that it was in fact we who would learn and change, both as individuals and within the group, and that we ourselves would be given so much by the people and children of Zambia.
Stepping off the flight from Heathrow on our first day was something that none of us will ever forget: wide skies, blazing sun, and warm, humid air on our skin. At that moment, the overcast, damp Dublin we had left behind seemed a very long way away.
We had left Gonzaga by bus (with a flock of mums waving handkerchiefs in the wind!) at around ten o’clock the previous day, taken a flight to Heathrow and then spent the afternoon readying ourselves for the ten-hour, overnight flight to Lusaka.
Every minute of the journey was filled with a kind of nervous excitement and enthusiasm, and so the time literally flew by. We all knew that we were entering the unknown, but it was an unknown that we had waited and worked for, and now that it had come, we could barely contain ourselves.
On the Sunday that we were to arrive in Tiyende Pamdozi, our host village, we were first brought to the Easter celebrations of Palm Sunday in Lusaka. It was unforgettable. The music of the choirs and the life and rhythm that the entire congregation gave to the ceremonies were incredible. This was our first experience of the Zambian culture that would, over the course of the trip, astound us with its spirit of hope.
One thing that we learned later was that in the main native language in Zambia, there was no word for ‘love’. However, what struck everyone was just how much love and happiness the people of the village brought to every aspect of the day, even in the face of relative poverty, unemployment and difficult living conditions (there was no electricity or running water in the village).
As we arrived in Tiyende, a sea of children ran along beside the bus, holding their hands to the window and laughing their hello’s and how-are-you’s to the new strangers coming to visit. Indeed, over the two weeks, we would grow used to playing skipping and soccer games with the children, being tugged and chased and being taught phrases and words in their native language. All of us had our favourites, but to think back now to the evening and afternoon playtimes, it is hard to remember anything but dozens of smiling, shining faces.
As building progressed, and the bricks and mortar began to resemble a house, we found ourselves becoming quicker and more efficient at the work, but also more tired by the end of each day. The first week trundled by at a steady and productive pace. The group became closer – naturally, considering that all sixteen of us slept head-to-toe in our small bungalow every night! Two of the local families had given up their homes to accomodate us during our stay in the village, a typical example of the spirit of generosity which we encountered time and time again among the villagers.
On our first weekend, we were brought to stay in Kasaka Lodge in the heart of a wildlife reserve. Because many of the roads were flooded from the rainy season, half of the journey down to the Lower Zambezi was on the Zambezi river itself.
With Zimbabwe on one bank of the river and Zambia on the other, we couldn’t help but wonder at how beautiful the landscape was: towering mountains bordering the horizon, elephants strolling by the water’s edge, a brilliant blue sky reflected on the river, and families of hippopotami surfacing occasionally to yawn at the passing boats.
At night too, because there was no light pollution, the Milky Way could be seen clearly, trailing the sky beside a red, full moon. While up to now in the trip we had seen Africa in terms of the people, at Kasaka Lodge we saw the natural, physical beauty of the continent as well.
We also played our first of three soccer matches that weekend, this time against a local school an hour upstream from where we stayed. With six hundred pupils and seven teachers, the school was completely different from what we were used to in Ireland, and again the people were incredibly optimistic. Our brief visit to the village was without a doubt one of the highlights of the trip, even though we lost the match 6-4! Returning to Tiyende with the prospect of another week’s work ahead was at first daunting, but we soon settled into the general routine of the day again.
On the final day before our departure, there was a farewell ceremony held in the village. The women who had cooked and looked after us for the two weeks sang traditional songs, and the matriarch, Margaret, made a speech, in which she thanked us for our kindness and for all we had given to the village. However, it was we who had been given so much by the children and families of Tiyende. Leaving the following morning was as difficult a task as all the hours of labour put together.
In the ceremony, on top of a few hearty choir songs, one of the boys led a bloodcurdling rendition of the ‘Haka’ war dance. However our performance paled in comparison to that of the local children, whose rhythm and music was so fascinating to watch.
On our final weekend before our flight home, we were brought to Victoria Falls. It’s difficult to describe how genuinely awe-inspiring they were. It’s not too often that people can hold rainbows in their hands. Zambia will stay with us for a long time to come.
This article first appeared in The Messenger (October 2008), a publication of the Irish Jesuits.
