And so on...

My village still smells of grass and flowing water and burning charcoal.  The roads are still brown and the paths are still white with sand, though some paths have been abandoned and new ones worn nearby to replace them, bridges have been rebuilt stronger, trees have been cut down.  As I biked along the red dirt road and up around the hills I looked down into the valley and saw huge strips of white sand, large patches of savannah brush that had once been green and dark with growth, the hills across the way now sparsely planted, white sand showing through where once the slopes had been thick with green.  I have left a legacy of a few farmers who know the danger of such reckless use of resources, and with luck these few will spread ideas to many before it is too late.  In my week-long visit to my village I was told repeatedly how much work I had done, how many people were grateful for what I had taught them; I can only hope as I walked away that I have served not only my friends and family here but the people they will meet tomorrow.

After a week of biking, cat-sitting, eating nshima, starting fires, sitting and reading (I finished 4 books in 7 days), I left the village rested and whole, something heavy trying to burst it's way out of my chest, like I was coming out the other side of a massive catharsis, a week of meditation and reflection.  I found my village mostly unchanged, my family blooming-- my aunt is on her 8th baby now, 8 kids!-- one friend sick with a mysterious headache, another preparing a chicken farm, all of them still there, still striving, still trying.  It hurts to think that I don't know when or if I will ever see them again.  I learned a new word in Bemba that week: ukufuluka, to miss.  I have missed you.  We missed you.  I will miss you when you're gone.  I will be missing you again.  Also mukushale bwino: remain well, but in the future tense instead of the present tense, as if to say: remain well permanently, remain well in the future, remain well for a very long time.

A week in the village was followed by a jarringly different week in Lusaka, which kicked off with Iron Man 3 in 3-D followed by a 24-hour headache.  Why do we do these things to ourselves?  It was an odd juxtaposition to my week of books and breeze and quiet.  I spent the week eating good things like hummus and pizza, saying good-bye to friends, and running around the office getting random people to sign and sometimes re-sign papers and forms to allow me to leave the country.  My ring-out date was Friday, May 24, and consisted of me and the 7 people still left from my intake dressing up and banging an old tire rim with a piece of piping.  It was very symbolic and meaningful and stuff.  I honestly was more moved, felt more complete and satisfied with the conclusion of my service, after a half-hour conversation with the director of Peace Corps Zambia, where we discussed my service and work as PCVL.  I walked away from that conversation feeling lighter, like the weight of being a Peace Corps Volunteer (and Leader) had been gently put aside, like I could finally say "Ok, I've done my part, I've done the best that I can, I'm ready now for whatever comes next."

And what comes next is a trip through East Africa and Eastern Europe.  I will be spending the month of June in Tanzania and Kenya and will of course attempt to keep this blog updated with my travels.  My first stop is Zanzibar-- I am taking the train today and will spend the long weekend there before proceeding to Arusha to hike Kilimanjaro.  Wish me luck!