As we walked away from our first conversation I began to step out of my "visitor" role and really see things for what they are. All around us was a maze of dwellings, each getting smaller and smaller as we went further and further away from the main road. I started to see the way the children were looked down upon when they would ask strangers if they could share with them and they were dismissed. It didn't slow them down one bit. Here we would over analyze "was it something I said, or didn't say? Am I cut out for this? Surely evangelism is for better Christians." With these children, being shooed away was part of everyday life.
Next we found the home of 3 families all living together in a home with no roof. They invited our whole group inside and we all crouched on the floor along the walls. While I readjusted repeatedly to try to get comfortable, I was once again reminded of their familiarity with this kind of life. They all squatted down on their haunches as they traded off using the Evangecube. We never saw the families smile, but at the same time we could tell they were appreciative that they were "worth" our time.
Gut wrenching...
While walking away from this home, we found a main thoroughfare and began to walk down it. I got a quick lesson in Zambian business sense. A native man pulled up alongside of us and asked me where these children attend school. I explained that they attend a certain community school and he began to tell me about how his niece was a teacher and really needed a job. After a minute or so, I realized that he assumed I was the School Master because I was a muzungu (white person)! I apologized that he was mistaken, and he disappointingly drove off. I'm still processing that one.
