The Little Blog That Could goes to Zambia

Ahem…one month later… (I considered calling this “The Little Blog That Could (Do Better).”) But at least this little blog sure gets around:

for those readers who only half-jokingly keep a “Where in the World are Sarah and Ben Now?” map, you can whip out your pushpins and poke ‘em in at Ndola, Zambia, where Ben and I will be visiting friends for the month of January. In fact we’ve been here since New Year’s Day, and we’ve spent most of our first week here doing exactly what we intended to do: visiting friends, going slow, and just enjoying being here. More on that later.

Many of you know that for me this trip is a return to something like a second home; I’ve been here a few times over the last decade, most recently in 2009, when I stayed for close to three months, visiting and doing various volunteer art project. But this is Ben’s first time, and so far, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it, especially the unique (somewhat goofy and very precious) cast of characters in and around Kafakumba, where we’re staying.

It’s interesting to observe Ben observing this place and these people; at times I envy him because everything’s new. Other times I think I’m incredibly lucky to have—in a sense—grown up coming to this place. I was sixteen the first time, seventeen the second, twenty-three the third, and now I’m twenty-six. Still there’s something to be said for encountering a new culture, with new ideas, when you’re a young adult and have a good deal more emotional, intellectual, and spiritual capacity to sort it all out!

There’s a research layer to this trip, too: for the past couple of years I’ve written a lot about previous experiences here; in fact about half of my Final Manuscript (the thesis I turned in for my Master of Fine Arts in December—yes, I’m officially graduated!) deals in some way with Zambia. In those essays, I’ve had the chance to wrestle with old questions, and most of the time the writing process has only dredged up more questions. Luckily, that’s usually a hallmark of a good essay (the word essay itself means to try, to work ideas out on the page), but needless to say I’m looking forward to doing some follow-up and new exploring.

For that and so many other reasons, this trip is a great gift—both to be here, and to be here with Ben. I appreciate his fresh perspective, the things he notices that I don’t, how he articulates what he’s learning or enjoying in ways that I wouldn’t, and the things he questions that I take for granted. I’m a writer, I can’t help it: I’m taking notes on all of it.

I have a classmate who says that we write to taste life twice, and I’m sure that in one sense she’s right. For me, though, I write to think, and to find out what I think. It’s difficult to switch off that part of my brain that’s constantly taking notes, trying to put words to experiences and ideas, trying to find and shape a story—difficult, but necessary, because it’s possible to forget that you live in a touchable world, in a real body (real lungs, real air, sweating like other real people in the rainy season humidity), in a moment that’s inherently precious not because it’s part of some bigger whole but because it’s there, happening, now. Every time I come here I have to relearn that, but I’m happy to. I’m happy just to be here for a little while.

There will be time for stories later, so check back as the month progresses.

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