Day 13: We Are All Contractors

Shoutout ENTR 201 for my post title. 

Today began slowly after a rocky adjustment to our final temporary home of Harare. Makenna and I decided to sleep in, but our bodies disagreed, leaving the morning free to wander, find some coffee, and venture to the gardens for some journaling and conversation. Our discussion centered on finding purpose here as individuals and as a group, something we are not alone in seeking… but more on that later.

It was then time to make the half hour drive outside of the city to visit Chitungwiza Harmony Singers- an award winning, internationally touring group- for an afternoon of singing and learning. Both choirs had an opportunity to showcase their musicianship and challenge each other in new ways (our biggest challenge certainly being the dances we learned), as well as teach each other the joint pieces we will perform Tuesday night. What a beautiful sentiment to trade “Hymn for America” with “Plea for Africa” and come together over love of home and common ground through song. The exchange ended with one last piece, “Adinu”, the lyrics of which translate from Arabic into “I believe in the religion of love”. After I sat down, my new friend Noktulah turned and told me “I don’t understand you, but I feel you and you moved me”. This is the beauty of music, something so special and abstract it can hardly be communicated. I don’t have answers yet, but perhaps that is part of our purpose here: to be vessels to allow music to strike awe and wonder into the universal heart as I’ve seen countless times, both in my heart and the hearts around me.

Later we were able to visit Joe Kinsella’s Zimbabwean family, a night filled with giggles, dancing and joy thanks to a mama who let me borrow her little one for the evening. We were greeted in the way we’ve come to expect from our hosts- a receiving line of so many names and handshakes. However, we left the way you expect to leave family- hugs that last just a little too long and squeeze just a little too tight, and a chorus of be safes and come back soons.

Overwhelming feelings of inadequacy have been a central theme for my senior year/life/this exchange. I have felt underprepared from the beginning, unsure of what I really had to offer, and burdensome to those who have been roped into this crazy adventure of ours. Moments of reprieve came in times of quiet, late night star walks in Chikuni, in random conversations about Zambian politics, in a three-year-old falling asleep on my hip in the middle of a party, and in pure joy of being soaked through the skin in spray from Victoria Falls. Moments like these prepare me for another day of growing pains as I am, again, thrown into a situation where I continually fall short. I am forever grateful for the grace and forgiveness I have been shown as I stumble through this growth and discomfort. These past two weeks have been filled with joy and growth and expansion, but it would be a disservice to say its been totally easy. While our itinerary reads the same events, each of our 28 singers are on a different journey and I am so proud of each of my classmates as I watch them overcome their individual challenges.

Before I left GU, a dear friend gave me a letter that describes the process of building new homes when we venture away from our comfortable current ones. Homes built on a foundation of values and a fireplace of beliefs you choose for yourself. Visiting Joe’s temporary house turned forever home was a wonderful representation of this process. As was said to me several times this evening, they kept taking him in because he kept coming back. Joe built a home thousands of miles away from his, not because of what he does, but because of who he is.

As a graduate, I am saying goodbye to a home I built in Spokane, and much of that home has followed me here. I built a home filled with friends and neighbors, and, of course, music (welcome to the land of extended metaphors). I am grateful for a home filled with friends who know what I need before I even build the courage to ask, for friends who laugh, cry and sing with me. I can also, in turn, be grateful for the times my foundation cracked, my fireplace burned dimly and neighbors borrowed far more cups of sugar than they loaned. It is in times of trial that we are given opportunities to rebuild stronger, newer additions.

So, thank you to my classmates who have taught me so much- whether I have been with you for one year or four. Thank you for the good and the bad, for challenging me to be the best version of myself, for learning alongside me through this journey.

Thank you to the Zambians and Zimbabweans who so graciously opened their homes and hearts. I arrived here already loving you because people I love love you. I leave loving you because you loved me so well.

Finally, thank you for the unsung/not singing heroes of this trip. To Victor and Bethwell, who ensure that we are where we need to be, even if we don’t know where the bus is taking us. To Yvonne, Mabel, Patrick and John who keep our tummies and hearts full. To Jennie, who keeps our group together in so many ways, at times seemingly only by threads. And to everyone we’ve met who has gone so far beyond in their hospitality and welcome. You have my heart.

Maita basa,

Leigha Warner ‘17