Christmas on Mount Kilimanjaro — I would never have thought that I’d climb to the heights of Kili just to ensure having a white Christmas! Mind you, spending New Years on the beaches of Zanzibar is a far cry from a white Christmas in my hometown of Edmonton! I still laugh when I think back to when I first found out I’d be spending Christmas in Africa.

“You want to send me where? Lusaka, Zambia, that sounds great,” (as I’m scuffling around my room desperately searching for my map of Africa). One year after completing university, I had landed my dream job!

My dream job has me living and working in Zambia for the next eight months as a Commonwealth Games Canada sport leader. This past Spring I found out the good news — I was one of 10 Canadian university graduates selected for its Canadian Sport Leadership Corps program. On paper, my job description was to work with the National Olympic Committee of Zambia helping to promote the empowerment of women through sport. I am currently developing coaching programs as one way to build women’s self-esteem and confidence. As I meet local residents I am discovering a steep learning curve about the needs and challenges of Zambian women. The challenge of hiking Mount Kilimanjaro is a privilege; the everyday challenges of life in Lusaka are teaching me things I had never imagined.

I’m not yet three months into my stay here and already the stories I have to share are countless. There is one woman who I would like to share with you, one who embodies the type of journey upon which I have embarked.

Through a “Women in Sport” conference, I met Kate. There are a few of us from this conference who meet each month to discuss the challenges of life in Lusaka, the barriers we face in sports, and how best we can move forward. One of our meetings fell on the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. Kate and I volunteered to work together on a presentation about violence against women here in Lusaka. This is how I have come to know Kate, and how she has become an inspiration to me.

Kate invited me to meet her at the school where she teaches. I hopped onto the minibus (with an escort — as I had no idea where this school was, except that it is on one of Lusaka’s largest compounds).

After many u-turns down pot-holed dirt roads, we find the school. The children’s day is over, so Kate invites me to her home. One cannot refuse Zambian hospitality — it is a serious insult. As we make our way back through the compound (with many people wanting to help the muzungu, and followed by many stares from honest children) the rains descend. The clay road begins to disappear into a red river. My flip-flops slip and slide as we pick up our pace to avoid getting stuck in the thick mud. The smell is not refreshing — but is one that breathes life. People are celebrating quietly as they know this blessing will help feed their families. The air is close now; in North America I think it would be described as oppressive — but not here. It’s no longer dusty and dry; it smells of hope.

We towel off at Kate’s, sit comfortably and talk as if we are old friends. I meet her family and admire the cleanliness of the house (after a rain like this my flat would have mud splattered all over the walls) — not Zambians though.

I am invited to eat a traditional Zambian meal. Nshima, the Zambian staple, (best described as a mix between couscous and mashed potatoes) made up of ground maize and eaten with the hands is the first dish. (Nshima is incredibly heavy and filling, but the nutritional value must be next to nothing). It is served beside a favourite vegetable dish. It is stewed rep (I don’t know the Canadian translation), tomatoes, onions, and it is heavily salted. Then, I’m presented with my first round of kapenta. I think they are dried sardines. Have I mentioned yet that I do not eat fish? Damn that Zambian hospitality. If only I hadn’t looked at those glimmering eyeballs before I chomped down. Swallow now. Smile — they are all watching! Surprisingly, kapenta is much more appetizing than I would ever have guessedâe¦I would even have a couple more if put in the same situation!

After the meal Kate sends her son to buy some sweets for dessert. So many Zambians I have met give when they seemingly have nothing to give; there is an amazing hospitality here, one that contrasts with North American selfishness profoundly.

Kate moves on to give me a tour of her house. It is not until then that I realize there is no running water or electricity. The meal I have just finished was prepared on a charcoal stove. She laughs with me and tells me that the next time I come over she will teach me to bathe in the basin. Life in the compound has been a learning curve for her as well.

You see Kate was widowed three years ago. She had to move to this compound two years ago when she could no longer afford payments to stay in her family’s house. Amazingly to me, she said it would not have been such a hard transition if her neighbours had been more welcoming. Apparently, she is regarded as having money and being in a higher position than many of her neighbours because she has work. She struggles with that hostility, but holds onto her dreams. She will re-marry this June to follow those dreams. She has met a man who has agreed with her on her future plans. They will open a private school, and with the profits they make they will open a school for women who find themselves in Kate’s position — single with a child or children. Kate is dedicated to helping those who know that the only way up is to educate your children, a feat that is never easy here in Lusaka.

More amazing than Kate’s beauty, and her generosity — is her astounding faith in God. I have never met anyone whose faith greeted me with her handshake. I am not much of a religious person, but I feel like praying to her God to provide her with the opportunities she deserves. Kate is hope. She is light, strength and inspiration. She is all a person could ever hope to be. How blessed I am to have crossed her path.

I do not know what Kate’s plans are for Christmas, but trekking to Mount Kilimanjaro with other Canadians will be such a contrast to my experience with Kate. That is an Africa that not many Africans see. I guess what I’m trying to say is that Kate personifies the contradiction between the astounding beauty and unrelenting despair that is everyday life here in Lusaka.