Day 12: It’s Working

Today was a day for us.  It was the final day of our stay in Victoria Falls, and though the transition from a Jesuit mission in Zambia to a popular tourist town in Zimbabwe was about as jolting of an experience as stepping from a hot tub into an ice bath, I think it was a welcome break from the mental end emotional challenges of this cultural exchange.  I can’t speak for the group, but I feel that these past two days in Victoria Falls provided just the right amount of R&R needed to re-energize for the last leg of this journey.  Some chose to spend the day reenergizing with a safari, some took to floating down Zimbabwe’s rivers, and some took to elephant riding in the southern African bush, to name a few activities.  We regrouped at the Victoria Falls International Airport, flew to Harare with unbelievably little difficulty, scarfed down a traditional Zimbabwean meal at a local grill, and settled into our hotel rooms to journal, read, and/or sleep to our hearts’ content (I think I’ll be doing the latter in a few moments.)  All this to say: today was easy to swallow.  Though I had few new profound thoughts while paddling for my life on the Zambezi River, today presented opportunities to ruminate on some older ones. 

One of those old thoughts that I had yet to really explore originated from our experiences at the Chikuni Mission.  On our last full day at the Chikuni Mission, we were given some freedom as to how we could spend out afternoon.  Though I did not go, some of my peers opted to take a tour of the mission’s all-girls school.  My friends reported that they were given tours of classrooms and allowed to steal some of their class time for the sake of some friendly interaction.  Of the many stories and laughs that were reported to me by some of those who toured the school, my favorite was the story about how some of the GU kids taught an icebreaker song to some of the girls.  This was a song that was taught to me at this past year’s choir retreat, and I was told that the girls, much like myself last September, totally ate it up. 

Later that day, I was walking across the mission to my room in order to prepare for the evening’s concert, and the girls happened to be getting out of school at the same time.  Hundreds of girls clad in their blue and white uniforms flooded the red dirt roads of the mission, and as I walked, I happened upon a group of half-a-dozen six/seven-year-old girls who made their love for the campfire song apparent.  Upon seeing me, the girls started singing the song, complete with the absurd hand motions and body movements that make such silly pieces of music so stinking fun.  I turned around to search out the source of the noise when I started singing back to the giggly kids, and I too, was overcome with joy. 

I assumed my joy came from watching the girls have so much fun with our little GU campfire song, but some reflection has revealed that the source of my joy was more than that.  For much of this trip, I have felt like we haven’t been holding up our end of the bargain in the cultural exchange.  We don’t have any traditional games, clothes, or dances to offer during our exchange like the Zambians and Zimbabweans do.  I’ve struggled with feeling like southern African culture is so rich compared to that of the United States, and I have thus felt like we are coming away with more from this exchange that they are.  Those six girls singing that silly song proved me wrong.  Yes, I understand a campfire song is hardly grounds for a cultural exchange, but that moment when I witnessed those girls being so washed with happiness was the moment when I realized that 28 college kids from the northwestern United States did make a small difference in someone else’s life on the other half of the world, and who gives a damn whether that life belongs to someone who hasn’t even finished 1^st grade.  Though it was just a campfire song that my friends taught to a group of kids, to me, it served as a sign that what we are doing here matters just as much to us as it does to the people here.  It was a sign that there is no imbalance in any sort of exchange between cultures.  It was a sign that our efforts to share experiences rooted in the vast beauty of human emotion have not been in vain.  It was a sign that this exchange thing is working.  If something so small can make six little girls’ day, who knows what kind of things our performances and friendships are doing for others here.  If our time in Africa is changing the wonderful people here are much as Zambia and Zimbabwe are changing me, then all of the long days, lost luggage, and spent dollars have been worth it.

Andrew Kelley

Vocal Performance, 2019