Friday morning we started out early for town. We decided again to go on foot rather than calling a taxi: the air and light in the morning is exquisite this time of year, and we just could not pass up the opportunity to enjoy it. Much of the land is still green, despite the fact that the rainy season ended a month ago, and our walk was lined with flowers and blooming trees. The cool air and the delightful breeze added to our pleasure. It was easy to feel ourselves to be Africans as we strode along in this way with the hundreds of others heading to the town center to begin their day.
Morning glories.
An antique train we found along the way.
We arrived at the registrar's office at nine o'clock sharp, in time for our meeting with Mr. Siwila. Our hopes were high. We have been slogging with great determination for almost two years now through the local bureaucracy in order to be officially registered as a Non-Government Organization in Zambia. At last the struggle seemed to be over: Mr. Siwila had promised over the phone that he had in his possession the papers we have been waiting for. We held our breath while he dug for them in a file drawer. After a few moments he smiled, pulled out the papers, and laid them proudly before us. There they were: five copies all signed and approved by whoever signs and approves these things. At long last we are legal, we thought. Our joy and relief can easily be imagined.
After congratulations all around someone asked the fatal question: "So, what happens next?"
"Next you go to Lusaka to get your certificate," said Mr. Siwila.
We all gulped at the same time. "You mean we're not finished?" we asked him.
"Oh, no," said Mr. Siwila. "You must get your certificate, then you will be finished."
We looked at each other bleakly: there is no telling what we might have to go through before that certificate falls into our hands, and what else we might learn we have to do. It was a difficult moment. Instinctively we took a few silent breaths to do our letting go in. It helps to be Buddhists in situations like these. After that there was nothing to do but thank Mr. Siwila and depart.
Next, we headed over to another governmental office: the Department of Social Services to take care of some paperwork for the projects.
Jen and Theresa stop for a little shopping.
Next, on our agenda was to meet with Steve, our friend and the engineer for the building we are erecting in Kantolomba. We were to go with him out to Kantolomba to work out some details of the construction. He picked us up right on time. After warm greetings on both sides (it's fun to have such good friends in Zambia), we climbed in his truck and laughed at Steve's jokes while we bounced all the way to Kantolomba.
Driving up to the property, the view of the building again took our breath away. It is such a beautiful sight! What for a long time has been just a dream is now a reality. The walls are done, the roof trusses are built and in place, and we are ready to begin installing the electrical and plumbing systems. All of us on both sides of the Atlantic are proud of what we have accomplished. There is still plenty to do, but we are beginning to taste victory. It will not be long now before our building will begin serving the people of Kantolomba.
Gaudencia, our contractor, pulled up soon after we arrived, and we all went to work. There was much to discuss: where the electric lines will go, how and where the plumbing will be installed, how the septic system will work, how the walls and floors will be finished, and much more. Things are simpler now, however, than they once were, because most of the major decisions have been made. We only need now to sort out the final details.
The building from the courtyard
The building from the outside.
Gaudencia explains
Steve makes a point
Dave and John, the plumber
James.
Inside the future medical clinic.
Examining the septic system.
When we finished, Steve and Gaudencia enjoyed tea with Theresa and some of the Living Compassion women while Jen and Dave talked with Evaristo, the boy genius of Kantolomba whom many will remember from earlier blogs. He had come on purpose to meet with us about his future.
Those of you who have followed Evaristo's career these past two years are in for a wonderful surprise. Last year Evaristo won a nationwide science contest for high school seniors, bringing him national attention and opening up a world of opportunity nobody in Kantolomba has ever even imagined before. He was set to be awarded a scholarship to the University of Zambia, at the very least, but something even better is in store. We learned just yesterday that Evaristo, with the assistance of our behind-the-scenes work, has been accepted with a full scholarship to United World Colleges, a prestigious preparatory program that enrolls deserving students from all over the world in a first-class educational program designed to equip them for any ambition they could possibly have. Evaristo will go to a school in Norway. If he does well, as he almost certainly will, he will be able to go on to just about any university in the world to continue with his education. It is an opportunity bordering on miraculous.
Only one thing remained: to tell Evaristo the news. He was shy and quiet as usual, but he lit up when we asked him if he wanted to go. "I only want to be a doctor," he said. "Yes--I want to go." His simple determination and willingness brought tears to our eyes.
Jen and Evaristo high-five.
We had one more piece of business to do in Kantolomba. We happened to know that this day was Cheri's birthday, and so we arranged a little surprise for her. We asked some of the children in our school if they would enjoy making her some birthday cards. They said they would, and so, when they were finished, we took their pictures with the cards to email to Cheri back home. We knew that she would appreciate like nobody else what a special birthday gift that was.
Happy birthday, Cheri.
With that, our work in Kantolomba was done for the day, and we headed back to town with Gaudencia. She dropped us in front of the office of the Permanent Secretary for the Ndola district of Zambia, who greeted us graciously, as usual. Our business with her was brief this time and we got right to it. In a way you could say that she plays the role of facilitator for our project. When we do not know how to do something within the Zambian political structure, she sets us on the right course and backs us up with the power inherent in her position. We have learned that when we tell people "the Permanent Secretary has sent us," they listen. Even better, she clearly wants for the people of Zambia what we do: the opportunity to rise above poverty and discrimination and discover what they can do. It is wonderful to have her on our side.
It was late afternoon before the meeting finished and we found ourselves back out on the street. Before heading back to the guesthouse for the evening, we stopped in at the Quicksave, an up-scale grocery we have found that we discovered has--get this--it's very own espresso machine. Success is said to be it's own reward, and this is no doubt true, but we have found that the reward is even greater when it comes with a latte. We spent a good hour in the cafe, enjoying our drinks and planning for the morrow. The life of a monk is hard and painful, to be sure.
An African latte.