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Hey Everyone,

I am writing this from Dr. Thinus’s house in Mufulira, Zambia. It is now 6:10 local time, which is about six hours ahead of Jacksonville time. Our travel to Zambia went fairly smoothly. We arrived at the Jax airport at about 4:30am on Sunday and our flight took off at 6:20. After that, time lost all relevance. By the time that we reached Dr. Thinus’s house, I had stopped even wondering what time it was. Today, our first day here, is no different. I think it’s interesting how, when one is taken from one’s daily life, abstract concepts like time suddenly lose importance. I’ve been in this position before — not caring about time. I like it. It’s refreshing to measure the day with events rather than hours.

We were planning to get started in Murundu right away. Today was to be the first day of our Gospel presentation. However, after our long trip and getting home very late last night, we modified the plan a bit. We decided to catch up on our rest today and begin tomorrow instead. This turned out to be a good thing because it gave us a chance to see the village this afternoon, find out where we’d be holding our two weeks of ministry, meet some of the kids, and also find out what some of their immediate material needs are.

Seeing the village for the first time was a little difficult. I’ve been to third world nations before, and you sort of get used to the kinds of things that you see there. I spent most of the day comparing this small village in Africa to another small village I’ve been to in the Dominican Republic. There were a lot of similarities…children running around…the lack of shoes or clean clothing…adults sitting outside, preparing food, washing…amazingly small homes…makeshift fences…animals, especially chickens, wandering all over. There were a lot of similarities, but the differences are what struck me more. The main difference that caught my attention was the way in which the village was set up. Here in Murundu, the village is a very tight-nit group of huts, set up in a sort of maze. And by huts, I mean huts. The walls were clayish, the roofs were thatch. There were windows…I saw some panes, but they were mostly open. Most of the huts were surrounded by some kind of homemade fence. The doorways were covered with blankets rather than doors. Children were everywhere. Most of them had clothes, though they were very old and very tattered. Few of them had shoes. Their feet were caked with mud. I remember thinking at one point that they must have very tough feet, because the ground was a little rocky in some places. The other defining feature of the Murundu village was the startling lack of roads between the huts. There were roads leading into the village, but they quickly narrowed once you were in the thick of things. They were paths obviously beat out by feet, not vehicles. This alone gave me the impression that I was definitely in a village, not just a small town.

The people. One thing that I rediscovered today was that children are universal. They are the same wherever you go. If a child in America thinks that something is fun, like jumping rope, then a child in Zambia would think it’s pretty fun, too. If a child in America likes it when you give him attention, or even just a smile, then a child in Zambia would also love that attention. You’ll see some of the same behaviours between older children and younger children. The older ones are protective, carrying the younger ones around. The younger children still hide behind their older brothers, sisters, parents. It doesn’t matter where in the world you come from. Children are children.

Describing the differences would take way too long. They are what you’d imagine they would be. The differences are what made walking through the village difficult for me. Pastor Joseph took us through the village today, and he is going to be helping us tremendously in the next couple of weeks. He feeds about 60 orphans a day. Today he told us that it is not uncommon for 10 kids to sleep on a dirt floor in a hut the size of a van without blankets or pillows. You sort of expect to hear things like that, but when you are confronted with the reality here, it brings it home. I thought of my own bed, which would easily fit three or four small children. I thought of my numerous blankets and pillows. I thought of all the children I’ve worked with in the states. That, though some of them come from desperate circumstances, it doesn’t really even compare. These kids…these people…they have hard lives.

I am looking forward to the coming weeks. I can’t wait to see what God is planning for us and for this village, and I feel so lucky that I can be a part of it. Thank you to everyone who helped us to get here…either through your prayers or support. We’ll definitely keep you updated on the events of the coming days.

Sarah

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 10th, 2007 at 4:07 pm and is filed under Sarah Cope . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.