Dr. Kenneth Kaunda

I’m still a bit star struck…

Dr. Kenneth Kaunda, first (founding) president of Zambia just visited our small office. The man is amazing. I remember hearing about him in social sciences – right up there with Nelson Mendala…he is a freedom fighter in every sense of the word. He’s retired from politics and spends his time advocating on HIV/AIDS and hence how he came across our office. Usually I don’t understand the ‘politics’ of the reasons behind visits from good will ambassadors (sometimes I feel it’s just an excuse for some photographs and hand shaking) but, with Dr. Kaunda I realized he has a reason for everything he does. His visit was to instil passion for our work, to keep us going. He is a wonder of a man (and a great singer). In his words:

Keep smiling as you share in the way
and this all the way
and HE will bless and guide you
in all this and this
All the way

As for my travels (so much happens so I always feel the need to narrow it down to some topic) I went to Bundi a few weekends ago. A small town, smiling faces, the accumulation of the best the province Rajasthan has to offer (just think of all those pre-conceived notions you have of ideas you have of India - no, no my WCB buddies not the stinky dirty India or boob-grabbing thoughts ;) but the bright turban-ed men, the deserts, the forts, the palaces, the views of a blue painted city of little windy roads, the camels, the palaces, the raj…etc – that is what it was). Some of my best photography is of the faces of this place. Amazing. I’ll never forget the family I met while sitting on the cement floor of the railway station – bright faces split with dirt and grime, old miss-sized clothes pinned carefully and proudly, knots of hair slicked down and cracked dirty feet in old flip-flops 2 sizes off. 7 or so kids (siblings and cousins) came to talk; they also were travelling the 10 hour over night train to Delhi but in the second class seating (hard wooden planked seats in an overly crowded, smelling and noisy section of the train). The kids were darling, giggling and laughing using the English they knew, hauling there baby siblings (who were crying and punching) into my lap. The parents shyly stood in the foreground, smiling and bowing. This is a side I don’t get to interact with often…the lower caste. Yes, I interact with beggars and service men but not families of this hard working class, these people have never asked for anything from anyone except from god. However, as the train was nearing and the children were hesitant to say good bye - they sat in front of me and lowered their heads. I had 6 or so children on their knees, with their heads down and their hands posed at my feet saying “blessing, please”. I didn’t know what to do, I tried to get them to their feet, I tried to tell them I couldn’t without insulting them and while still recognizing and respecting their way of life. I just stood red faced, sweating, looking into their little dirty faces. These experiences happen in India, I know, I’ve had them before. Maybe this particular experience wouldn’t affect others but it really affected me.

Feeling thankful,
Michelle