New Year’s Reflection

I don’t make resolutions – except for the usual recommitment to losing weight. However, I do like the chance to reflect on the calendar year past and ponder the year ahead. I have been in Zambia for a month now, although it feels like much longer. A new job, new way of life, and constantly meeting new people adds exciting and usually comical commentary to day to day activities. Even a stroll down my street to pick up bread, usually means a chat with the women selling tomatoes, the taxi drivers, the guards in front of the compounds, and “hello, how are you? I’m fine, how are you?” routine with passing kids.

It is only a slight exaggeration to say that my daily interactions bring forth the issues of race, gender, and poverty. I am constantly made aware of my position as a foreign woman. “Madame, Happy New Year, give me something, your phone… take me to your home,” was my most recent interesting conversation. Of course, all this only happens if I am on my own, or in the company of other women. Walking down the street with a man, any man for that matter, makes me invisible. Questions or comments regarding me are always directed at the man. Even if I am in a group consisting of women and one man, he still by default becomes the spokesperson. While waiting for a bus, my male travelling companion was asked, “give me one of your women, you have three.” I didn’t hear his reply, but I would have loved if he said anything along the lines of, “they’re not mine to give; you’ll have to ask them.”

Since spending Christmas in the wonderful company of street kids, orphans, and those that work with them, and in contrast ringing in the New Year with expats and white Zambians, I wonder does it have to be one or the other. There is an ever growing number of questions tumbling around my head. Where do white Zambians fall into the picture of development? Can we truly ever put colonialism in the past? Does my position challenge gender stereotypes? Why don’t I get housekeeper? Why do I feel guilty if I have the luxury of warm showers? Why do I care?

I have no idea what Zambia holds for me or where I will be in one year. What I know is that this is a chance to learn. A chance to ask myself how I want to live my life. A chance to respect people around me. And, a chance to relish in the everyday.