Numb

Numbness. This is what I've been feeling since we got back on Sunday, but could never really describe it because I was... well... numb.

But today I started to feel a slight twinge of feeling in my life, and I'm not sure I liked it much. I began to wake up to a world of gray - robbed of joy. I went out on my bike, but felt completely disconnected, but as I went I realized that things really are colorless here. Where are the individuals riding their bikes miles to the market with two live goats strapped to the back? Where are the colorful yet dirty chitinges (spelling?) securing young babies to a mother's back while she balances a basket of greens on her head? Where are the honking vehicles letting you know they're coming up behind you as you walk along the road (on the left side, by the way) and meandering around various potholes and large speed bumps? Where are the stands with fresh tomatoes and cabbage - that in the coming days will be selling papaya and pumpkin leaves with the changing season? Where is the red dirt that inevitably attaches to your shoes, feet everything, yet no one seems to notice because everyone is walking in it?

And what about the people? Where are the welcoming vernacular calls for "white girl" as I run in the morning? Where are the people who reach up to the bus window hoping you'll buy a few ground nuts (peanuts) off of them so they can take something home to their familes for dinner? Where are the orphans who welcomed us with joyful songs proclaiming God's goodness, despite their very sense of rejection and lack of certainty that they will have a meal tomorrow? Where are the eyes that light up as you hand them a small bowl of porridge and joyful giggles as they receive their first toy - a bug made out of an egg carton and pipe cleaners? Where are the children who run down the hill and jump into your arms for a hug before they even meet you - just because they know you're there to see them? Where are the fresh guava trees and mosquito nets?

Where is the tireless grandma who walks up to five miles a day to take a word of encouragement to a woman dying of AIDS, whose children have been taken from her, whose home has collapsed, and who now lays on a mat outside her sister's hut with no energy to eat - not that she has any food to eat anyway...

Where are the people? Here - they're sitting in offices staring at computers looking for ways to make more money while avoiding the necessity of forming more relationships. After all, it's hard to fire people or take advantage of them if you have no relationship with them.

Numb. That's how I've been feeling. Or I guess, not feeling. That is why I was able to keep a straight face when I was told I no longer had a job on Wednesday - I was numb. That is why I haven't been able to really put in words what we saw and experienced in Zambia - I've been numb.

But now I'm gaining feeling. And that feeling tells me I want to go back to where there is color. Where people have joy. Where children sing praises simply because they know God is good. Where people would rather stop and chat then get to a meeting or something else. Where red dirt is a comforting site and much more appealing than gray concrete. Back to Zambia. Where I left a big piece of my heart.