Sunday, 24 March 2013

marie.bourkefmdm: 24. 3 2013Lusaka, ZAMBIAMy dear family and friend...

marie.bourkefmdm: 24. 3 2013Lusaka, ZAMBIA
My dear family and friend...
: 24. 3 2013 Lusaka, ZAMBIA My dear family and friends ! Yea! Hello from Zambia; I hope all is well with each one of you.  Its Inte...

24. 3 2013
Lusaka, ZAMBIA

My dear family and friends! Yea! Hello from Zambia; I hope all is well with each one of you.  Its International Women’s Day and a holiday full of sunshine, birds and quiet.  Best of all the chance to write letters to you! I wanted to write on the day Zambia equalised with Ethiopia during the All Africa Cup of Nations. A friend of mine had organised a table right in front of the television at Arcades Shopping Centre for an evening cup of coffee; but it took me thirty minutes to make the half mile down Great East Road; it was so packed with Zambians with one thing in mind- get home early for kick off!  
I could even feel my blood start to pump with excitement, listening to the fever pitch of the radio commentator from South Africa, and watching the intent way drivers hunched over their steering wheels, Zambian flags flying from windows and masts, greeting each other with conspiratorial nods and thumbs up- manoeuvering in and out of a packed crawl.

What a match!  Our table was in the thick of supporters alternatively cheering and holding their heads, groaning in frustration. Nil- nil!  But we were eagerly catching up on personal news and had to periodically ask the score from the waiter and what had happened following an outburst of cheering- ask, then plunge back into conversation. I thought we’d won, so my delight turned to bemused puzzlement, disappointment and shock as I made my way back to the car to head home.  Good Lord!  Zambia, the defending champions; and we could not even score against Ethiopia!

I glanced round as I opened the car door, as right next to me, four or five young Zambian men were piling into their car; a smart one too.  The one nearest, cheerful with drink, yet struck by the unusual sight of a white lady at his elbow, and grief of the match we’d all been watching, blurted out in greeting, “Madam, how do you live?” Upon which his companions roared with laughter.  I laughed too, answering in Bemba, “Kuno kwine; ku Lusaka.” Then the driver leaned out and said to me, “What he means to say is, “Where do you do!”  We all had a good laugh together, and I added in terrible grammar how- my grief was great (ifilamba fyandi ifingi!) so we all greeted and went our separate ways in merry spirit.
Lusaka grows on me with such moments!  As I mentioned in my Christmas letter, I really love the drug and alcohol work I do.  It is intense and almost like a war front- no prisoners taken. Do or die. This year we have recruited ten young staff members whose work is either in research with John Hopkins University or training community leaders in local initiatives, either church or school based projects, mostly in the local languages too, so it is powerful, innovative, and exciting to watch develop. Similar initiatives are springing up in Namibia, Botswana and Tanzania.   I’ve seen some of the media presentations using Picture Codes, to mobilise local action groups for mobilising in the poorer compounds here in Lusaka as well as for the outreach programmes in the provincial centres starting this month.

Last week Zambia National Broadcasting Corporation (ZNBC) called in at our place, Serenity Harm Reduction Programme Zambia (SHARPZ) check us out on the web; www.sharpz.com and interviewed our Director, Fr. Phillip Baxter, giving, ”us” free advertising.  As a consequence quite a few rang asking for more information for help.  One older sister rang and as promised, arrived the following week with her youngest brother, and mother in tow.  So as usual after introductions and explanations of our programme and approach, I was to sit down with Kasonde for a full assessment after I’d given Mum a cup of tea; older sister was to head off to work.  So I busied myself in the kitchen and was surprised to find both Mum and older sister standing outside, in a huddle, looking upset.  “What’s happened?” I asked. “He’s gone,” they said. “Where?” said I wonderingly.  “Out the gate.  Down the road!”  Immediately I realised I’d assumed too much, had not spent enough time preparing  and encouraging Kasonde;  instead left him alone, to just panic, and flee!  “Okay,” I decided, “let’s catch up with him.” That’s how we all jumped into the little Ford, drawing in front of him at the crossroads.  “Kasonde, can we talk?” “Ah no, it’s “Peter”(as in Stuyvesant) time!”  He was feverishly trying to buy cigarettes, looking wild eyed. Meantime his women folk were persuading him into the car, so I got in and drove into the nearby church yard for privacy.
“I’m so sorry, Kasonde,” says I twisting round to face him in the back. “I did not explain properly.  We won’t push you or force you at any time; you go at your own pace- whatever you can manage to cut down; that is how it will be.  According to what you can manage.  You don’t need to run.”  “I’ve been running all my life!” says Kasonde, “that’s how it is!”  Anyway, after a bit of talking I saw the look of panic and defiance die down, and even soften into some humour of the situation, as he watched me.  “I’ll come tomorrow,” he told me. “Okay,” says I not believing it but hoping.

Imagine my surprise the following morning.  There Kasonde was- and I could not smell so much drink on him either. He stopped schooling in Grade 9.  No wonder he bolted. Even now, when I showed him the papers we’d work on to assess the seriousness of his condition, he groaned out aloud, when he saw these under my arm.  “Don’t worry,” I assured him, “You will be fine.”  And he was too. He had good firm handwriting.  But the amount of spirits he was taking!  “Wow, Kasonde,” I told him, “you’ve got the top score!”  At which he just giggled. But, my God, his mouth set into a determined line, as I described the plan ahead.  He was ready for the fray! What a goer! After de-tox, weekly group work, here we come.
You will see below a photo of Lana Turvey (with our dog!) who volunteered to work a year in Mission Overseas and worked on all kinds of projects,  with Fr Bernard Zulu the national coordinator and is now back in Australia- in Sydney.  I enjoyed her and I miss her. Much love Lana and thank you!

This comes with much love and prayers!   
 Marie