(complete post, the first attempt was cut short)
The seed was planted for this journey when I read an article in Common Place magazine which I receive as an alumni of Mennonite Central Committee (MCC).
The article was about a center for HIV+ teens run by a MCC partner agency in Uganda. I thought, wow, what an exciting time to be in Africa! With the introduction of antiretrovirals (meds to treat hiv) around 2005, the first generation of children born with hiv are moving into adulthood. Since I was between jobs, I decided to check out the MCC website to see what sort of nursing positions were available. There was this position in Zambia. Though I had served with MCC before for three years in El Salvador, I was not sure that I was prepared for living overseas again. However, reading the article and then finding the position felt like it could be more than just a coincidence. Might the Spirit be moving? I inquired and was asked to apply. I went ahead and applied even before I had finished my own internal discernment process. However, as time went on my heart grew ever fonder of the idea. The application process went in fits and starts between the holidays, a big restructuring process at MCC and a three week period I was in a remote location with no phone access. I applied the end of November. I interviewed February 23, was accepted to the position on February 24, and left the States for Zambia on April 3.
The month of March was full of scrambling for documents,filling out forms, getting cleared medically and outfitting myself with skirts (previously practically nonexistent in my wardrobe) and white nursing uniforms (not worn since graduating from nursing school nearly 25 years ago).
In the 90's, I lived and worked in El Salvador for over 5 years. I have traveled quite a bit in Latin America and am fluent in Spanish. I have experienced the joys and challenges of living in a culture different from my own. Africa is a new continent for me, Zambia a new culture. I will also be working in a new area of nursing. I am so blessed for the opportunity to learn and experience so many new things.
Yesterday, quite unexpectedly, I purchased a small sculpture of two people dancing. It was carved out of ebony by a man named Eddie. Once he put it in my hands, and I felt the weight, touched its mostly polished surface, admired the highlights of the grain and the gracefulness of the figures, I didn't want to put it down. I knew I didn't need it, but I wanted it. It is beautiful. I bought it and am pleased I did. I will place it in a prominent place in my new home.
