So, the minibuses that you catch to get around town are actually minivans, but you cram 16 people into them, and occasionally a live chicken or two. There is no such thing as personal space; you are basically all on top of each other. So much for ironing your clothes for the office.
Stops are a little tricky when you don’t know where they are, what they are called, and there is no way to indicate that you want out. I pick significant landmarks, like churches (90% of the population is Christian), or for my office in Lusaka, I simply ask to be dropped off at the robots. Yes, the robots. And I get there every time. Now, Zambia does not have some weird architecture or has not been taken over by overzealous technology. The “robots” are the traffic signals, and with roundabouts everywhere courtesy of the colonial days, “robots” are few and far between, so that they make for a good landmark. Apparently, some people still believe that the signals *do* function by robots controlling traffic, and so the name has stuck.
With so much of the population deeply religious, questions often come up about what my faith is. Many people are aware that North Americans are not so faithful, but they are still quite disappointed to hear it. So I have begun to answer that I do not attend church in Canada, but have done so sometimes, which is true. That being said, I am always fascinated by religion and the strength and community that it gives people, and love to observe and participate. So what better time than now! Only one week in Zambia, and I decided to attend Catholic mass with my friend Elina, for the celebration of the Eucharist. Now this was unlike any Catholic mass I’m sure any of you have attended! A short mass (performed by a muzungu minister) intermingled with traditional Zambian drumming, dancing and songs – I enjoyed it so much. Of course, of the 500 or so people in attendance, I only counted two other muzungus besides myself, so again: here I am! Plus, towards the end, the minister called on all the visitors to the church to stand up and be recognized, and Elina nudged me to join in. No blending in here. But this was not the market; here I was welcomed into a community, and again I realized why it is that people put so much into their faith.
Following the mass was a procession through the streets, and if you have ever seen those giant swelling crowds on CNN that fill up the streets and seem to go on forever, picture me in the middle of it. I just tried to keep up with Elina and her 18-yr-old daughter Mercy. All in all, it was a wonderful way to be a part of people’s everyday lives here.
Stops are a little tricky when you don’t know where they are, what they are called, and there is no way to indicate that you want out. I pick significant landmarks, like churches (90% of the population is Christian), or for my office in Lusaka, I simply ask to be dropped off at the robots. Yes, the robots. And I get there every time. Now, Zambia does not have some weird architecture or has not been taken over by overzealous technology. The “robots” are the traffic signals, and with roundabouts everywhere courtesy of the colonial days, “robots” are few and far between, so that they make for a good landmark. Apparently, some people still believe that the signals *do* function by robots controlling traffic, and so the name has stuck.
With so much of the population deeply religious, questions often come up about what my faith is. Many people are aware that North Americans are not so faithful, but they are still quite disappointed to hear it. So I have begun to answer that I do not attend church in Canada, but have done so sometimes, which is true. That being said, I am always fascinated by religion and the strength and community that it gives people, and love to observe and participate. So what better time than now! Only one week in Zambia, and I decided to attend Catholic mass with my friend Elina, for the celebration of the Eucharist. Now this was unlike any Catholic mass I’m sure any of you have attended! A short mass (performed by a muzungu minister) intermingled with traditional Zambian drumming, dancing and songs – I enjoyed it so much. Of course, of the 500 or so people in attendance, I only counted two other muzungus besides myself, so again: here I am! Plus, towards the end, the minister called on all the visitors to the church to stand up and be recognized, and Elina nudged me to join in. No blending in here. But this was not the market; here I was welcomed into a community, and again I realized why it is that people put so much into their faith.
Following the mass was a procession through the streets, and if you have ever seen those giant swelling crowds on CNN that fill up the streets and seem to go on forever, picture me in the middle of it. I just tried to keep up with Elina and her 18-yr-old daughter Mercy. All in all, it was a wonderful way to be a part of people’s everyday lives here.
No comments:
Post a Comment