We pass through narrow streets filled with cars and numerous potholes. After we hit a huge one, I understand why most of the cars I see here are SUVs. We drive for about half an hour, before pulling into a neighborhood that looks like a nice suburban area. Large houses line up the street. The lawns are well-manicured and the landscaping is beautiful. Patrick pulls up to one of the gates, and honks the horn. A guard looks out checking the car, before opening the gate for us.
“This is where you will be staying for the next month, Aiden,” Patrick tells me as he points to a small structure next to a large house. This is their guest house and they’re renting it out. It’s a small one bedroom house, but it has everything you’ll need.”
Hearing that it’s a one bedroom, I cringe as I think about having to share a bedroom with Jonathan now, but Patrick quickly puts my fears to rest, as he continues. “Jonathan, you’re staying at a different place. It’s walking distance from here, only a few streets up.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Jonathan is a good guy. After he got over my broodiness about my situation with Aleah, he’s actually been nice to me. We get along pretty well. But I still don’t like the idea of sharing a house with another guy, specially a bathroom like we had to do in India. This trip really is teaching me to appreciate the small things in my life.
Patrick jumps off the car and I follow his lead. He takes me to introduce me to my new landlord, and I’m surprised when I found out it’s a lady. She seems to be in her thirties, and introduces herself as Yanga. Seeing the look of surprise on my face, she explains quickly that her husband is a manager at a bank downtown and she manages their tenants and a small family business they run from their home. I’m impressed with her eloquence and her confidence and take an instant liking to her.
They move forward to show me the house. It’s tiny with a very small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. But it has a reasonable size living room and a separate bedroom and it’s fully furnished. When I see the small TV and cable box in the living room, my curiosity gets the best of me, and I grab the remote to turn the TV on. I’m surprised as hell to see MTV come to life on the screen. Seeing the look of shock on my face, both of them burst into laughs.
“What? You thought there were no TVs or electricity in Africa?” Patrick asks.
“No,” I say quickly, trying to make sure I haven’t offended them. “I just didn’t expect to see American channels like MTV.”
“We have satellite TV,” Yanga explains. “We get international versions of a lot of American channels. I think a lot of the programs are the same.”
I try to hide my surprise well this time. They lead the way to show me the kitchen. Again, I’m surprised to see a small microwave, an electric kettle and small washing machine in the corner. All in all, I’m pleasantly surprised by the accommodations. The place has a lot more than I expected from a house in Africa. After Patrick says goodbye, I head to the bathroom and turn the faucet on to take a shower. I notice that the water pressure is very low and doesn’t really turn hot. I rush outside to catch Patrick before he leaves.
“Hey. I’m sorry, but I think there’s something wrong with the showerhead. The water pressure is very low.”
They both follow me inside to see what I’m talking about, but when they see the water flow, they turn to me in question.
“What is the problem?” Yanga asks.
“The pressure… Look, there is no pressure.”
I hear a chuckle from behind me, and turn around to see Jonathon laughing at me. He’s well-traveled and has been to each of these countries, and right now, I know I’m not going to like what he says.
“You’re not going to get the water pressure you get in your shower in L.A., man. This is Africa. There is a shortage of resources. The pressure is just not there and the water heaters don’t always work. Also, expect regular blackouts. They happen a couple of times a week, and when they do there is no hot water.”
I turn around to Patrick and Yanga to confirm what Jonathan says is true and the look in their eyes says that I’m out of my mind for thinking that there is a problem with the water. I apologize and say goodbye to them once more, before walking to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed. I guess I’m in a third world country, after all.
After taking a nap, I walk outside and talk to Yanga. I ask her if it’s safe to walk around this area and if there are any stores around. She assures me that I’ll be perfectly fine walking around here, and points me to the direction of a street with some stores.
I walk outside and try to take the surroundings in. As I exit the neighborhood and enter the shopping area, I notice a few small fruit stands on the side of the street. I walk up to them and notice that each consists of a small box with a few pieces of fruits on. The ladies that manage the stands look thin and tired, as if they haven’t eaten in days, but when I make eye contact, each one of them flash me a genuine smile. I wonder how someone with so little could appear so content. I walk a few steps forward to see a large grocery store in the corner.
I step inside the grocery store and instantly feel like I’ve been transported to the U.S. The store is smaller than our huge grocery stories, but there is still aisle after aisle of stuff I never thought I could find in Africa. I find Lays Chips and U.S. brand toothbrushes and toothpaste. I find most basic necessities I would need and mostly in brands I recognize. To say that this country has surprised me so far is an understatement.
I leave the grocery store to find a coffee shop in the corner next to a pizza shop. I grab a seat in the coffee shop and order myself a latte. As I sit there and people watch, I see teenagers walking around on their cell phones. I notice cars passing by blasting music, and moms walking hand in hand with their kids. And suddenly something hits me. People are more similar than different all over the world. When we stay in our own little bubble, we think that the people on the other side of the world are different species. We only see or hear of the cultural differences. But when you look beyond the surface, you see there are so many similarities. Most people these days are connected to the Internet and read the same news and consume the same media. And most people seem to want the same things in life. Even the poor starving ladies I saw in the slums of India seemed to want the same basic things. They wanted a better life for their children and food and shelter for themselves. Luckily most of us in the States don’t have worry too much about food and shelter, but if we didn’t have those, I bet they would be the first thing on our minds too. As I start to see the similarities, I make a small vow to reach out and try to connect with the locals more on this trip.
EIGHTEEN
ALEAH
I wake up to the sound of my ringing phone and my brain automatically goes into panic mode. ever since Aiden has left on this trip, I keep my phone right next me on the nightstand with the volume turned up all the way. I tell myself it’s because he’s so far away and I want to make sure I can pick up the phone in case he calls me. But I know deep down it’s because I’m worried about him being a world away in places that are brimmed with poverty, disease, and God knows what else. I’ve been particularly worried about him since last week when he flew into Africa. When I first heard he has to travel to Africa, I really panicked. Even though since then I’ve learned that the country he went to is safe and peaceful, I still worry.
I rub my eyes quickly and take a look at my alarm clock, before I pick up the phone. It’s not as early as I thought it was. It’s seven in the morning, and I’m usually up by now. The only reason I didn’t set my alarm earlier today is because I stayed up late studying last night and I don’t have class till ten this morning. I grab my phone and my panic intensifies when I see Aiden’s number.
“Hello.”
“Hey, babe.” His voice sounds upbeat, erasing some of my worries.
“What’s going? Everything okay?”
“Yes, I’ve just been thinking about you a lot today and thought I’d give you a call before I have to go to this meeting.”
I re
lease a sigh of relief.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” he asks, picking up on my grogginess.
“No, it’s fine. I just got worried there for a second when I saw your number this early in the morning.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I thought you’d be up by now.”
“It’s okay. I needed to get up anyway. So, what’s up?”
“Not much. We went on some site visits yesterday and everything I saw was just so incredibly sad. I want to tell you all about it, but I’ll wait till when you’re more awake.”
“I hate the time difference between us. There’s never a good time to talk.”
“I just hate the fact that I’m so far away from you, period. The time difference is one thing, but the fact that I haven’t seen your beautiful face in a month and a half is what really is killing me. I miss you, baby.”
“I miss you too. I wish we didn’t have to wait another month and a half to see each other.”
“Me too, especially since Christmas is coming up. I hate that we’re spending our first Christmas together so far apart. Have you decided what you’re going to do for Christmas?”
“I think I’ll just stay in and watch sad movies all day.”
“Don’t say that. Now, you’re making me feel awfully bad.”
“It’s not your fault I don’t have anyone to spend Christmas with.”
“I know it’s not my fault, but I wish I could be there with you.”
“Yes, well, wishing is not going to do anything for either one of us. This will pass too. We’ll be together soon.”
“I can’t wait... Alright, looks like Jonathan’s coming to get me to go the meeting. Call me when you’re done with your classes.”
“You’ll be asleep by then.”
“I don’t care. Sleep is overrated anyway. I prefer talking to you.”
A small laugh escapes my mouth and I can feel his wide smile through the phone. He likes ending our conversations on a lighter note and is usually able to make me laugh or at least smile before we hang up.
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling after we say our goodbyes. Thinking about the upcoming holiday season makes me really sad. Even though my family didn’t celebrate Christmas in the traditional way, we still had a lot of fun around the holidays. When I was younger, we would usually go on family vacations around Christmas since my dad had a lot of time off. After my brothers got older and moved out, we didn’t go to those vacations as often. But instead, we had a lot of people over at our house and went to a lot of get-togethers. This is the first year I have to spend the whole holiday season by myself. Thanksgiving was miserable and that’s not even as significant as Christmas. Mia has invited me to go to her family’s house for Christmas. But her family lives in Sacramento, and I don’t want to be a bother to them. Justin also asked me what I’m doing for Christmas, but he hasn’t said anything else. Ever since he found out I’m back with Aiden, he’s been acting very weird. So that leaves me with myself.
The more I think about Christmas, the sorrier I feel for myself. And then all of a sudden an idea hits me. The thought is so exciting and frightening at the same time that I instantly sit up in bed. My heart starts racing just thinking about it. I quickly grab my laptop and start researching. Before long, the thought has moved from a mere idea to something tangible. I start putting things in motion to make it happen, as excitement begins pulsing in my veins.
NINETEEN
AIDEN
I make myself a quick breakfast and eat in front of the tv. I have the day off since today is the day before Christmas, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m feeling especially homesick today and I know tomorrow will be even worse. A lot of people here have invited me to their houses for Christmas, and I decided to go to my landlord’s house since it’s the closest place. I know it will be a nice warm Christmas celebration, but it won’t be the same as being home, especially since I know Aleah will be alone.
Just the thought of Aleah makes my body ache with longing for her. Never in my life did I think I would miss someone this much. But ever since she came to my life and invaded my heart, she’s broken all the rules.
I check the time on my watch and quickly calculate the time back home to see if I can at least call her. It’s around one in the morning and she’s most probably asleep. When I called her last night, her phone was off and she hasn’t responded to the email I sent her yesterday. This is really uncharacteristic of her and is starting to make me worried. Still I hold myself back from calling right now. She doesn’t need to be startled awake in the middle of the night, because I’ve become such a wuss, and can’t go a day without talking to her.
I decide I should just go for a walk to clear my head. I start putting my jeans on to leave the house, when my phone rings. I’m surprised to see Patrick, the guy who has been driving us around for the Foundation calling me on his day off.
“Hey, Patrick.”
“Hi. I just got a call from Keith. He wants me to take you to Livingston today. Can you be ready in an hour?”
“Wait what? Why are we going to Livingston?” I ask in surprise. Keith is the director of the Zambia office of the Foundation. He manages all of the programs and has been handling most of my visits here, but he never told me anything about having to go Livingston on Christmas Eve.
“I don’t know exactly, but he said we’re meeting someone from a local non-profit group there, and they’re going to take you around and show you a local village. Something about wanting you to see how the villagers celebrate Christmas.”
“Hmmm…okay.”
I dial Keith’s number, as soon as, I hang up with Patrick. This just sounds too weird. Livingston is at least seven hours away. It’s a small tourist city where Victoria Falls, one of the world’s largest waterfalls is located. I had been planning to go to Livingston on my last weekend before leaving Zambia, but this is just too sudden and improbable.
When Keith picks up, I ask him what this trip is about. He simply gives me the same answer Patrick gave me. When I start questioning him, he dodges the questions. He just tells me that it would be a great experience for me and I wouldn’t regret going. I check with Jonathan next to see if he’s going too. He tells me he is staying here for Christmas, but he just got an email from his boss and they seem to be the ones arranging this visit for me in Livingston. Hearing that the U.S. office of the Foundation is involved in planning the trip makes some of my worries dissipate.
Patrick picks me up a little while later, and I’m surprised to see his wife is in the car too. He explains to me that since it’s Christmas, the Foundation offered to pay for his wife and him to stay at a nice hotel there so they don’t have to spend Christmas apart. That makes me happy to know that I’m not causing them to be spending Christmas separately.
We set out on the trip. The road to Livingston is narrow and full of potholes, and the distance is long. But Patrick and his wife are good company, and we make it there in less than seven hours.
When we get to Livingston, I’m surprised by the greenery and the beauty of the area. Patrick assures me this is nothing compared to actually seeing the falls. He drives up to a luxury looking hotel. When he stops the car, I look at him questioningly. Nowhere during this trip, have I stayed at any place that was remotely as luxurious as this hotel. One of the points of the experiment is to make me aware of the conditions ordinary people live in and the Foundation has never wavered from that during this trip, so I’m very surprised to see us coming here.
“Is this where we’re staying?” I ask Patrick.
“We’re meeting the person who will be taking you on the site visits here.”
I’m still surprised that a non-profit organization’s employee chose to meet us at one of the most expensive hotels in the country, but I don’t ask any more questions. We start walking towards an outdoor patio restaurant overlooking a large river. When we get there, I don’t see anyone around. The only person in the whole restaurant is a woman sitting at a table in a corn
er with her back to us. I turn back to look at Patrick.
“Where is he?”
“I believe that’s the person you’re meeting,” he says pointing to the woman. Hearing our voices, she turns around in her chair… and my heart stops. I blink a few times to clear my vision, thinking that I’m seeing things. Could I be hallucinating? Seeing the shock on my face, she starts walking slowly up to me. But she stops when she’s a couple of feet away.
“You’re not going to say hello?”
Hearing the sound of her voice makes me snap out of my initial shock. As soon as I do, I’m filled with worry.
“What’s wrong? Why are you here? How did you get here?” I start shooting questions at her without giving her time to respond.
She chuckles. “Relax. Nothing’s wrong. Can’t a girl just want to surprise her man for Christmas?”
“You flew all the way here to Africa to spend Christmas with me?”
She beams a radiant smile at me. “Don’t let your head get too big. I flew here for all the wild animals I’m hoping to see too.”
I’m stunned. The thought of her traveling by herself here makes me truly nervous. “How did you get here? Did you come by yourself? You know it’s not safe to travel alone as a woman.”
“Really Aiden? Since when?”
I want to say since you became mine and I started developing these protective feelings I didn’t even know existed over you. Instead I say something else that pisses her off.
“Since always. It’s just common sense.”
Redeeming Love (Resilient Hearts #2) Page 14