Auntie Meghan!

I fell in love-- twenty-one times. This morning I walked out of my room into a simply beautiful African morning to be greeted by the cries of "Auntie Meghan! Auntie Meghan!" from across the courtyard. "Auntie Meghan, look at our new clothes! I love you Auntie Meghan!" Ernest got to me first, closely followed by Johnny and Elias, who I mixed up a lot at first but quickly discovered are absolutely nothing alike in personality. I helped the nannies dress the toddlers, and then a whirlwind day of laughter, tears, piggy-back rides, and potty breaks began.  Chola told me his highest aspiration is to take a duck onto an airplane. Queenie is constantly trying to teach me Bemba (which I am really trying to learn). I'm doing my best to learn the nannies names.  A couple of them are particularly friendly and have told me all about their families, their children, and pretty much any other aspect of their lives that I could possibly want to know about. One of them pointed down the road and showed me which house is hers.

To answer some of the many questions that I have recieved via facebook and email in the last 3 days:

"Are you crazy?"
Quite possibly.

"Do you like Zambia?"
ILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEIT.

"Which child is your favorite?"
I don't pick favorites..... coughcoughERNESTcoughcough....

Let's rewind a bit, shall we?

Sunday afternoon, I left home with my dad and traveled to Indianapolis. We stayed a few hours at a hotel and then went to the airport about 4:00am for my 6:00am flight. Everything went really smoothly, and before I knew it I was on my way to D.C. I had a 4 hour layover there, most of which I spent sitting outside of my gate playing with the 20 or so litttle African children who were also boarding a plane to Addis Ababa.

Not to go off on a tangent, but I really love airports. I love the takeoffs and landings, the beginning of adventures and the relieved homecomings, and the movement. No one stays at an airport forever-- they are a catalyst for the next step. Most of all, I love the people that you meet there.

Case in point: Sitting in the terminal at Indy I met a man named Elliot with half-Brazillian little 2-year-old twin boys named Noah and... um... Anyway, he was headed to Rwanda to head a program at an orphanage for Engineers Without Borders. On the plane I sat next to a new college grad from South Africa who told me his story of joining a gang at age nine, finding Jesus at age fifteen, going to college in upstate New York, and then heading back to his hometown with the passion and ability to make a difference. The little Ethiopian boy sitting in front of us really enjoyed the origami animals that I kept slipping onto his armrest. It was amazing to watch the wonder and awe in his eyes as he pressed his face against the window. The mother across the aisle was taking her two oldest children back to the Congo to visit her youngest daughter (age 3) who still lives there.

Twenty some hours later, I dragged my comatose body off of the airplane at Lusaka. Maybe I was just too tired to process words, but I could not for the life of me understand the woman at customs. Her response was to comb through everything I packed, which took approximately forever.  Timmy picked me up, and we went to a woman named Lydia's house. Lydia was great. I liked her a lot. Timmy was incredibly patient and helpful as well, especially considering the hassles he delt with on his way to meet me. We ate out at a strip mall called the Arcades that evening, and then I slept a solid twelve hours. I only woke up once-- the mosquito net was wrapped around my neck a few times. The next morning we went grocery shopping for the orphanage (lots and lots of peanut butter!). Then we boarded the bus for Lusaka (That is an incredibly simplified description of the ticket-getting, luggage-loading, people-dodging, seat-fighting, bus-boarding process). The next 16 hours was the only part of my adventure thus far that I did not thoroughly enjoy. If I never hear Zambian music again, it will be too soon.

As far as prayer requests, besides the obvious health and safety for all here at Kazembe I ask that you pray especially for little Nicholas. He's sick (probably with Malaria) and is dehydrated. He hasn't thrown up today, which is really good. He's asleep on the couch across from me now hooked up to an IV.  He's only about six months old. Nicholas is a fighter, but he still needs your prayers.


There is so much else I could say, but it will have to wait for another day. In summary, I love everything about this place.

Much love from Zambia!