Mutual Respect

Any who read my blog will know that I feel very comfortable here in Monze. I suppose as a “white man” I am out of place, but I never feel it. I occasionally realise that I very rarely see another white face in town. By returning a greeting and a smile or sharing a joke any distance is suddenly bridged and I am among friends.

The past couple of days taxi drivers have approached me to see if I want a lift, when I say I am happy to walk they say “but why? The reason I give and one I believe, is that by walking I meet people. In a car you can pass by and meet no one. In my case there are people I have got to know over the past twenty years – most I will not recognise, because I have an issue with picturing people and scenes. When people mention their name I will recall who they are and apologise. After one such encounter today I met Boniface. Boniface was a student at PIZZ School who now earns a living as a musician. He tells me that he needs his own studio to move forward. After a brief chat I told him to give me a buzz so we can catch up (no I am not about to provide him with a studio!) It must be 4 years or more since we last met.

I have spent a good amount of my time at PIZZ School talking to Mrs. Sianga and meeting the children. Today I met the pre-school and grade one children which completed my tour of all grades. I tell the students a little about England and my family, but I like them to ask the questions. They usually want to know the names of my children and grandchildren and how old I am. They are also interested in what we eat in England – though people who can survive without nshima seems unimaginable! In one class I was asked me to sing which caught me off guard. 'There was an old woman who swallowed a fly' seemed to hit the mark!

I had noticed some new lock up shops this year and one had three pools tables in it. During the week, on the way back from PIZZ School, I plucked up courage to poke my head inside. I asked if anyone could play and I was invited to sit down. The rule here is that the winner of a game stays at the table and anyone wanting to play deposits their coin and makes a challenge. When I have tried to explain that in England we play with our friends, not with strangers they cannot understand this strange culture. Even more how we can go to a bar and not mix with everyone else. If I try to say that there are neighbours who I have hardly met, I don't think they believe me!

Well my turn on the table soon came - and we were well matched. It was a tight game and I was just beaten. My opponent however, ignoring the accepted rules, wanted a replay! In the second game I proved the victor. What followed was a series of very close matches which I was fortunate to win. After an hour or so, in another close match, I was at last defeated and made my exit.

One of the joys of playing pool in Zambia is that, whatever the differences in culture, background, history and lifestyle, on the pool table we compete on equal terms – it is only the skill in playing the game that matters. All the guys I played had a similar skill level to me. They were all capable of beating me and I was capable of beating them. We respected each other and the skills shown. I enjoyed an hour or more playing in the lock up and they told me they also enjoyed our games. I promised to return for another session.

Yesterday Mr Sianga drove me, with Mrs Sianga and someone who is apparently Soloman's uncle, to Pemba, where Jennipher lived. I was hoping to locate Jennipher's children, but firstly wanted to meet Soloman. I first met Soloman in 2006 or 2007. He had come from Zimbabwe to stay with Jennipher and for 15 or 16 years he was tremendous help to her, growing crops, building houses and even looking after the children. I was bit surprised to find that apparently he had close family in Monze, having never seen or heard mention of them before.

We were shown to the house were the funeral took place - which was apparently where Jennipher lived! Soloman wasn't there, but met us in town where we also met a lady who I apparently saw in Jennipher's village on my last visit. After speaking to the lady this made sense, but not a lot else did!!

It cannot be stressed how difficult it is to understand people from an entirely different culture and living a very different life. To my great shame I don't understand Chitonga – the local language. Most people that I talk to can speak some English, some, like Mrs. Sianga, speak and understand English well, but it is not their first language. I wonder how many of us would be confident of conversing in French, Spanish or another language we learnt at school and be sure that we are understanding all the nuances of the conversation?

Yesterday I found myself very confused. I gathered that the children, or at least some of them, were staying with relatives at Jennipher's village. Fortunately I had Mrs Sianga to translate. After seeing Soloman and chatting briefly we agreed to return next Tuesday to meet the children with Soloman at his house. I am hoping that the second visit will put things in place and that I will be able to set up a means of keeping track of the children's progress.

It is only by spending a lot of time with people that get to know and understand them. After regular discussions over 20 years me and Mrs. Sianga are getting to know each other quite well. I know that for twenty years and more her passion has been to help the orphaned children. She has given her time energy and resources to develop a truly exceptional project and a school which produces academic results which far exceed those of the Government schools in the area and also most of the private schools. More than that she has given hopes to hundreds of the most vulnerable children in Monze. Everything Mrs. Sianga has done has been for the benefit of the children, her only gain is the knowledge that children have been able to make something of their lives, instead of suffering on the streets. Talking to the students it is clear that they are very happy to be at school, they are respectful, but don't lack the cheeky grin and impish giggle. They are very comfortable in the school, respect the staff, but have no fear in approaching them. The atmosphere and environment is one that you would hope to find in a very well run school.

I am amazed that so much has been achieved with limited resources. I hope and pray that working closely with Mrs. Sianga we will be able to ensure the vulnerable children of Monze will continue to find a place of safety where they can achieve their dreams and reach the skies. Many of the children hearing that I came to Zambia by plane want to become airline pilots!

Take care! With love and prayers,

Chris.