Afrikan Adventure: The Windy City

The weather patterns in Zambia seem to work like clockwork. I mean you wouldn’t want to set your standard wrist watch to it, it’s not the atomic clock or anything, it just seems very predictable. Stable in a sense. You always no what’s coming. I like that. Because it seems like nothing else about this country works in this fashion, nor has anything about this trip followed this road called “expectancy.” So at least the weather can. They said it would get windy in August. So coming from BC where the only thing predictable about the weather is that it will probably rain when you really don’t want it too, I didn’t think too much about it. I was thinking maybe a gentle northeasterly wind to come passing through now and again. But no, they actually meant it gets windy. It’s like Chicago out here, the Windy City (which I recently learned bears political meaning rather than barometrical significance, but I still choose to think of it meaning the latter). In the mornings I sometimes lie in bed and listen to it. Sometimes it sounds angry. Like it wants to blow my humble abode clear over, sending my thatch roof a sail. Other times it sounds calming, like it is bringing forth something new or just letting you know it’s there. I like the wind. I like the way you can feel the wind even though you can’t see it, you know it is there…surrounding you, pushing you, holding you. It is real. The wind reminds me of God, of His Holy Spirit who is with us. And even though I know God is real, sometimes it’s nice just to feel Him, like the wind.

There hasn’t been a whole lot new to report going on this past week. It was yet again another goodbye as we saw the Stein family go back home to Minnesota after a year here. They were working with the community schools and Steve was serving as our interim director and with him leaving we currently have no one leading us here on the field. Tim Hilty is standing in as our “Officer in Charge” and I am thinking of making him a badge, vest, and beret to wear to all our meetings. But at least this week with another goodbye we got to say “Hello” to a new family joining our team, the Melville family, who I’m happy to say have greatly increased our non-American contingency as they are from the UK although were living in California. The common-wealth contingency is rising up here in Action Zambia! We and the Queen will eventually take over.

My weekly activities continue on as normal, although numbers seem to have dwindled this past week at the different events. Perhaps it has something to do with the schools being on break…or it’s me. I have started teaching one of the youth how to play guitar. So we’ve been meeting three times a week which is fun.

Finally, here is the latest rat report: I have not eaten any this week but as I sit in my hut there is the distinct aroma that is neither sweet nor pleasing, but rather the something dead. Now if you recall I mentioned previously about my rash outpouring of poison in a moment of intolerance and I’m sure all you animal rights activists are singing I’ve gotten my just dessert. I’ve searched everywhere, can’t find it. I think it may be in the thatch of the roof. I’ve noticed several fly larva showing up this morning…a sure sign of something dead Mr.Gondwe tells me. I guess I’ve learned my lesson. Just because something wakes you up every night doesn’t mean you should bombard it with poison. A lesson probably best learned before I have children.

And that concludes another long-“winded” August letter. I am so blessed to have people like you, who support, encourage, love, and pray for me…and put up with my nonsensical ramblings (because if you got this far, you indeed do!), it blows me away! I’m so thankful for you. Have a great week and eat something weird for me.

Love

shannon

“The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” John 3:8