Boy Funeral

A beautiful entry from my sparkling friend Rachael, a woman who is doing so much good halfway around the world.

Under the Baobab Tree

I was looking through my journal last night, and came across a piece I wanted to post in a blog and just never got around to it. So, here’s me getting around to it.

My bamayo called today wondering if I would like to go to a funeral. I have been to funerals before, back in the States, and it always struck me as odd: the way mourning and celebration intertwine. The way Zambian communities act as one family made the idea of going to a funeral all the more daunting and powerful.

We rode our bikes away from our village, down busy paths lined with trees and tire marks of travelers past. She wove through the trails like it were second nature, as only someone who has lived their whole life here would know.

And then we heard the drums. The steady beat calling us closer and the sweet…

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