“Breath the peace of Zambia!”
These were the words of my first encounter with a Zambian upon my initial arrival to Zambia.
As the plane landed on the tarmac, rousing myself from the lethargy of the long flight from Los Angeles, I wondered what “the Real Africa” (Zambia’s slogan in 2005) had in store for me. I had come alone to attend a conference with the International Institute of Peace Through Tourism.
I was anxious and energized by the experience of arriving in this African country without a traveling companion and knowing no one on the other side of the airport doors. I maneuvered my way through the long line at the visa desk, gathered my luggage at the crowded baggage carousel, and passed through customs. Exiting the airport doors, I located the shuttle to the hotel. The driver greeted me with a warm Zambian smile.
“Is this your first time in Zambia?”
“Yes.” I responded, “In fact, it is my first time in Africa.”
“Ahhh,” He countered with a deep sense of pride, “Breath the peace of Zambia!”
I drew a deep breath, then another. Maybe it was the power of his suggestion. Maybe it was because I came to Zambia to attend a peace conference and I was primed for finding it. What ever the reason, the peace was palpable. A beautiful calm entered my being.
“Yes.” I smiled in agreement, “Peace is in the air.”
We chatted awhile about the weather when an elder Zambian woman joined us.
“Mum,” the driver greeted, “this is her first time in Zambia!”
The woman smiled and extended her hand. “Welcome home.” She offered warmly.
“No.” The driver corrected, “It is her first time in Zambia.”
She looked at him with a dismissive glance, turned back to me, took my hand in both of hers, gazed into my eyes with her crinkly, aged countenance and said with a knowing certainty, “Welcome home.”
Thus began my love affair with Zambia, a country of peace and warm welcome.
These were the words of my first encounter with a Zambian upon my initial arrival to Zambia.
As the plane landed on the tarmac, rousing myself from the lethargy of the long flight from Los Angeles, I wondered what “the Real Africa” (Zambia’s slogan in 2005) had in store for me. I had come alone to attend a conference with the International Institute of Peace Through Tourism.
I was anxious and energized by the experience of arriving in this African country without a traveling companion and knowing no one on the other side of the airport doors. I maneuvered my way through the long line at the visa desk, gathered my luggage at the crowded baggage carousel, and passed through customs. Exiting the airport doors, I located the shuttle to the hotel. The driver greeted me with a warm Zambian smile.
“Is this your first time in Zambia?”
“Yes.” I responded, “In fact, it is my first time in Africa.”
“Ahhh,” He countered with a deep sense of pride, “Breath the peace of Zambia!”
I drew a deep breath, then another. Maybe it was the power of his suggestion. Maybe it was because I came to Zambia to attend a peace conference and I was primed for finding it. What ever the reason, the peace was palpable. A beautiful calm entered my being.
“Yes.” I smiled in agreement, “Peace is in the air.”
We chatted awhile about the weather when an elder Zambian woman joined us.
“Mum,” the driver greeted, “this is her first time in Zambia!”
The woman smiled and extended her hand. “Welcome home.” She offered warmly.
“No.” The driver corrected, “It is her first time in Zambia.”
She looked at him with a dismissive glance, turned back to me, took my hand in both of hers, gazed into my eyes with her crinkly, aged countenance and said with a knowing certainty, “Welcome home.”
Thus began my love affair with Zambia, a country of peace and warm welcome.
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