I Am Soooo Not Missionary Material

I am sooooo not missionary material. That is going to be the title of my book when I get around to writing it. Would a missionary find herself running laps around the courtyard of a medieval castle at 1:00 am sporting just her bra, leopard granny panties (thanks to Victoria’s Secret. Hey, think VS will sponsor my book tour due to great plugs like that?) and a pink helmet while her inebriated friends chanted “Underwear. Underwear. Piiiiink Helmet” because she lost at liars dice? Ok, so that was Pre-Afnet when I was vacationing in Spain a few years before I moved to Africa, but that woman is still in me. How did THAT woman find herself in the interior of Africa on a Sunday morning preaching in a small rural village church?

 I’ll bet nobody was too surprised when Katie Davis became a missionary. Katie is the 19 year old girl who went on a mission trip to Uganda, fell in love with the kids and never came back. She wrote a book, Kisses from Katie, beating me to the punch of turning a blog of her missionary experiences into a bestselling book which funds her ministry so she no longer has to beg for money to feed the 14 children she adopted by age 21. (Being that I am a big hearted missionary now, I am not jealous at all.) Anyway, I bet the folks back home weren’t tremendously flabbergasted when that little sweetie gave her life to Africa. But a 46 year old dedicated drinker, Deputy District Attorney divorcee? HA! (and when you read that, be sure to dramatically throw your head backwards and push the HA out with scorn-dripping gusto)

 My new life currently finds me back in the land of the Cordylobia anthropophagi, the fly that lays eggs in your laundry. Also known as the mango fly, tumbu fly, putzi fly or skin maggot fly, it is a species of blow-fly common in East and Central Africa. It is a parasite of large mammals (including humans) during its larval stage. Its name derives from the Greek word anthropophagus, meaning "eater of men". Lovely. This educational moment brought to you by the makers of irons in Zambia. One of my previous blogs enlightened you on how you must iron your underwear after drying them on the line so that when you wear them, teeny tiny eggs don’t hatch and the larvae burrow into your skin. The heat of the iron incinerates the little man eaters. It also wreaks havoc on your elastic waistbands so I am in dire need of new underwear (are you reading this Victoria’s Secret? The rest of you, please don’t post a package to Africa with underwear for me. Just go to www.afnetaid.org and donate $25 and type “Lisa’s underwear” in the Note box. Totally kidding. Type “malaria meds” in the note box.) But I digress…

That’s right, I am back at the orphan center in Mansa, Zambia. As I sit here writing, the sweet voices of the children echo through the orphan center. I am in my room but the thin walls cannot contain their jubilant voices. This is how I start each day, with their beautiful voices singing and laughing while I get dressed, have my breakfast, do my bible study. How could I be anything BUT content here? Ernest Hemingway wrote, “I never knew of a morning in Africa when I woke up that I was not happy.”

 That is most definitely the case for me in Mansa! I love their little voices with their little accents singing “Dees is the way we wash owah hayah.” (This is the way we wash our hair.) And their giggles would melt the steeliest of hearts. When I walk into the orphan center and their eyes light up happy to see Ba Lisa, the joy that washes over me says, “You are home.”

Singing of their love for Zambia and education

 How can I leave? Each time I left before, I knew I would be back. That made it so much easier as I hugged each child goodbye. “I will see you in a few months…” Not this time. I do not know if or when I will ever be back. I cannot say this to the children. They know Ba Lisa always comes back. She is not like the mom or dad they have lost, she always comes back.

Now I hear them singing “I am a Zambian”. Here are the words to this song: I am a Zambian, Zambia that I love, I am a Zambian, Zambia that I love. Work for Zambia, die for Zambia. I am a Zambian, Zambia that I love. I need to know how to read and write, I need to know how to read and write. Be educated, be a teacher. I am a Zambian, Zambia that I love. Education is all I want, Education is all I need. Work for Zambia, die for Zambia. I am a Zambian, Zambia that I love.

 Based on the emotions that are welling up inside me as I listen to them sing this song, I know I will be back. I can say goodbye on Tuesday and know I am not lying to them when I say, Ba Lisa will be back.