When someone asks me, “How was Zambia?”, it is so hard to explain the rich and diverse experiences I’ve had in the field. I would love to refer them to my blogs and have them read all my encounters to have a better sense of what happened, but instead, I reply simply, “I loved it. The people there are really friendly.” And then immediately afterwards, I tell them that it was cold, since it was sub-Saharan Africa and it’s in the Southern Hemisphere, but they call it the dry season, and down the rabbit-hole I go. I wish I could better articulate my experiences, but it is such a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions every time someone mentions Zambia that I’m not sure if they’ll truly understand what I’m talking about unless they’ve gone through a similar experience. Yet maybe I just need to take the time to sit down with them and share these incredible stories, but coming back to America, there never seems to be enough time. But that was just one of the things I learned in Zambia. In the next three sections, I will be sharing three stories that really humanized Zambia and cultivated humility for me. Growing up, I would hear stories about starving children in Africa, but I rarely stopped to consider the people in America and China who were also faced with poverty. I hate to admit it, but throughout my teens, I had even gained a savior’s complex, believing that I would be going to these countries and helping these helpless people. I was going to lift them up when colonists had pushed them down and trampled all over them. Yet, only recently did I realize that in doing so, I would be no worse than the colonizer. Like any other country, Zambia (and the other countries in Africa) is filled with people. People that have a history behind them, filled with culture and music and art and love. They are indeed some of the friendliest people I have ever met, but they are also incredibly warm-hearted, intelligent, and open-minded people as well. More than anything, they are truly inspiring. Food for the Stomach, not just for Thought After having skipped dinner the night before, since we had travelled a long way to Luangwa, a village in the Southeastern corner of Zambia, I was really hungry during the first agent training. When they finally brought out the snacks, I dove right in, clutching a scone in my right hand and a bottle of water in my left. Maybe it was my hunger or not knowing what type of food to expect, but that was one of the best scones I had ever had in my life. With outright delight, I ran up to the training manager and I asked him who had made these. He pointed to a woman outside who was preparing lunch that day (as well as for the subsequent meals). Without hesitation, I walked up to her and introduced myself, telling her how much I enjoyed her scones and that they were the best I had ever had. She smiled, a full-on grin that spread across her face, and laughed, incredulously asking, “Really?” as if she had never heard anyone (or any foreigner) tell her that before. I explained to her that as a foodie (lover of good food), that I had truly enjoyed her baked good and we began to talk more about baking and cooking. She was impressed by my knowledge of ifinkubala (caterpillars) and nyenye (cicada), traditional Zambian dishes, and I was fascinated when she began to tell me about the other dishes she cooks. Personally, I think she enjoyed the fact that someone else wanted to learn more about what she did every day. At the end of the conversation, she wrote down the recipe for the scones. Although I have yet to make them, I promised her that I would send her a picture when I do. I truly believe that food unites people and as I travelled throughout Zambia, I was very appreciative of all the food that I ate and all the people who made and sold them. Similar to the idea of “breaking bread”, all the meals I shared also served as the setting of conversation and I was able to gain insight into a new culture. Food served to open the gate. Language Bridger, not a Language BarrieR “Defwaya Amabotolo Yamenshi Yabili” means “I would like two bottles of water.” Due to the lack of water filtration systems, everyone drinks bottled water, and in the North (where the native language is Bembe), I would always order two bottles: one for me, and one for Drew. On this particular night, midway through watching the World Cup, I decided to head to bed early. As I approached the bartender, I noticed a larger group of people had gathered to watch. Like usual, I asked him for two bottles of water, paid, said thank you (Natotella sana) and throughout this brief “conversation”, the rest of the room who were watching the World Cup froze and looked at me. One of them asked me where I had learned to speak Bembe so well, and I laughed, thanked him, and told him that I learned by asking people. The whole room looked surprised and the bartender asked if I could speak any other languages, to which I replied Chinese and French. This somehow, led to a huge uproar, and what should have been a quick water bottle run turned into an exciting conversation. After first sharing a few words in our respective “native” tongues, I was able to better explain how I was a Chinese-American and what that meant to me, while they shared how unusual it was for foreigners to learn the language, especially through dialogue rather than the useless guide books sold in stores. They also honestly told me about the Chinese workers, but rather than paint them in a bad light, they were quite accepting of having these workers come to help create the stable infrastructure for the country. As we talked, I was surprised by their willingness to speak to me regarding my identity and carefully listened to me explain my heritage. It was also nice to not be immediately judged when I told them I was Chinese. I felt at home and at peace with my own identity, because by not being the stereotypical American, I brought a different perspective. Being a “hyphenated American”, as Teddy Roosevelt would call it, is in some ways better, for I can understand multiple cultures and speaking multiple languages helped me more easily learn Bembe. Furthermore, I realized that I relied too much on status quo societal acceptance (pervasive in society through social media), when in this small town in Northern Zambia, a group of strangers welcomed me with open arms, accepting me for my actions, rather than my appearance. They were genuine and open-minded—something, I learned, that does not necessarily come with age, but with maturity and experience of different cultures. Engineering to change lives, not JUST FOR financial securityIn high school, I’ve never thought that I wanted to be an engineer, but my parents highly recommended the major (although neither of them is one), knowing that I would be financially secure in the future. They also stressed the importance of problem-solving, having the engineering mindset, and having a strong technical foundation. For me, I just wanted to be able to create change through designs and products. I truly didn’t see myself as an engineer, and I questioned if I was making the right choice. Interestingly, throughout Zambia, when I told people I studied electrical engineering, their ears immediately pricked up. One of these people was a regional director at VITALITE, and he eagerly drove me one morning to his house. He wanted to show me his garden, but he was also hoping for me to meet his daughter. This sounds a little strange, but I quickly learned that almost every parent in Zambia (at least the ones I met) hoped their children would grow up to be engineers, especially electrical or civil (which surprisingly are the two smallest engineering departments at SCU). This was really weird. Why would people want to become engineers, rather than doctors or teachers? Well, the short answer is that engineering requires less education while still creating a positive impact on the world. People realize that being able to create and use technology is not only an investment financially, but also economically, environmentally, and socially. For them, engineering was more than just money. It was a way to improve their lives and give back to the community. I was invited to talk to his daughter to give her a better sense of what engineers do and what I was learning. Through this conversation, she was very receptive and since talking about engineering is something I truly enjoy, I passionately took this opportunity to reflect on my own education. However, I did ask her a lot of questions to learn more about her own interests. Similar to who I was in high school, she was uncertain about her path, but engineering or medicine were her two options. She wanted to go to college in China and she truly wanted to do something that would help her community. I was not only amazed by her resolution to pursue such a noble cause, but the determination she spoke with, understanding that she had a lot to offer for the future. She spoke with such pride in her country and that she hoped she could work with others to bring Zambia into the future. She was the future and she was ready to begin. For me, this was eye-opening. I knew the impact engineering could have on the world, but to hear her goals reminded me of why I first began studying engineering. It really helped me reaffirm my dedication to engineering. I had taken so many theoretical classes that I felt bogged down by not being able to simultaneously pursue what I set out to do. I felt like a fraud, but in truth, I had already developed the engineering mindset. Throughout my trip, as I worked with Excel and spoke with multiple people about my studies, I realized that I am an engineer and I was already doing amazing things. Hope for humanityFrom all these conversations and interactions, I found a resurgence of hope: the true kindness, the smiles and laughter, the willingness to speak and listen, and the passion for change. These were all traits that I appreciated as a child, but as I grew older, I forgot how much I appreciate having genuine connections. They are self-sufficient, truly ingenuitive, and incredibly thoughtful, among many others. This cathartic experience in a new culture really helped me find myself and also appreciate the true nature of humans—not as helpless individuals, but united, passionate fighters. Therefore, while many people say that we have nothing to learn from Africans, I heavily disagree for they have more to teach us about what it truly means to be human, then we even realize. As we live our days, bumbling around with our eyes glued to screens, our feet speedily hustling towards our next destination, and our minds focused on the busy day ahead, we forget what it means to live, and in this sense, we have a lot to learn, or perhaps, “un-learn”. SIDENOTE: I apologize for the lack of photos depicting these conversations. They were all spontaneous and I enjoyed being present in the moment rather than documenting them.
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