We apologize for not getting the blog up in time yesterday. We were having trouble posting because of internet problems. The one for yesterday has been posted now, and this one is on time.
Today, we started the day early because we went to the church service at St. Andrew’s church, which is affiliated with the United Church of Zambia. The church was filled with the sound of music from the moment we walked in, and it was a mix of hymns, African worship songs, and some hymns that had been made African with drums and other African instruments. Katie gave Tyler the camera, and Tyler spent a lot of the worship service taking pictures of the different people and groups that sang and played songs (which we will post soon, we promise!). During one part, Elizabeth led a women’s choir in a song that they danced to the front of the congregation to perform. After most of the songs had been sung, the congregation welcomed its visitors, and gave us flowers and sang a welcoming song to us. The sermon was very good, and the speaker finished with a powerful prayer, followed by communion. It was a very warm reception, and a beautiful service.
After church, we ate lunch and then headed over to the Sunday market. This was one place we really wanted to see, and the vendors there had many different kinds of goods. Most were very African, and many were handmade by the people selling them. The people there love to barter. Part of the excitement of the market is trying to see how good of a price you can haggle, and we think we did pretty well for our first time haggling in kwatcha. At one point, Katie got trapped haggling for something from a vendor and the rest of the group didn’t know where she was. This wasn’t for very long, though. A blond muzungo isn’t hard to find in an African market. We got our friends and families gifts to bring back to the States, but we won’t let them know what those are until we can give them their gifts! We walked back from the market along the road with Emanuel and Michael and their friend Sidney. We passed one house where someone was coming out of the compound gate, and a little boy, probably four or five years old, saw us and shouted, “Muzungo!” We all laughed and continued back to the house where we spent the rest of the day playing with the kids. All in all, it was a good Sunday.
(For those of you that haven’t read our earlier blogs, “muzungo” is the word here in Zambia for a white person that speaks English.)