Dreams or Schemes?

1Matt • 19th Aug 2009 • Africa

This morning I went with Mwewa to to the US embassy.  He easily got a visa to visit California in October for the Acirfa banquet, but the thing that really struck me during the 2 hours that we were in the waiting room was each of the stories that were there in the room.  For some reason, though each person was being interviewed to make sure they deserved a visa in a very personal and intimate way (discussing bank account balances, marital status changes, family situations, etc), the door to the interviewing room never shut and we could all hear each others interviews.

Not everyone in that room was as lucky as Mwewa.  Granted, not everyone deserved a visa as much as Mwewa, but I was close to tears on behalf of more than one hopeful student or elderly Zambian that was accompanied by a daughter or grandson that was turned away for one reason or another.  For some, it was a lack of proof of financial ability to sustain themselves while in the US and for others the embassy agent did not believe that the person would actually return to Zambia.  Though strict, the woman did her best to be sincerely sorry for not being able to allow them to go to the US.

What got me was the way that everyone in that room wanted more than anything to visit the US.  Some were going for training courses in IT or theology, some wanted to go to school full time, and some wanted to visit family.  The ones visiting family especially had a sincere and heartfelt desire to go to the states.  One elderly man who shuffled across the room with his grandson at his side when his name was called spoke with a frail voice and I just about lost it when he was asked why he wanted to go to the states.  His response was, “I’m getting very old and there is not much time left for me to see my grandkids and for them to see me.”  The way he walked and talked and didn’t seem to notice that his glasses were about to fall off his nose proved to me that he was right.  In his interview he said that he wanted to visit his grandchildren that are in the US.  His grandchildren’s mother happened to be the man’s niece, so technically they weren’t his grandchildren.  The embassy agent asked him why he was trying to make her believe that they were his grandchildren, to which he simply responded, “They are my niece’s children.  They are my grandchildren.”  The embassy agent did not understand this cultural nuance – extended family in Zambia is just as close as immediate family – and upon receiving the news that the embassy agent thought that he wanted to go to to the US to live and had no plans of ever coming back to Zambia, the greying man with a stiff back stood there for more than 10 seconds, looking at her and not moving a muscle.  He then averted his eyes toward his grandson for affirmation and when he received none, he turned around and shuffled feebly out of the room without saying a word.

Was the man filled with dreams of knowing and being known by his grandchildren?  Or was he filled with schemes of beating the system and spending the rest of his days in a land more comfortable than the one he’s known all his life?

I’m not sure, but I know he looked deflated and embarrassed leaving that room and all I wanted was to make things ok — make his life a bit easier and fill it with a bit more dignity.

Sorry for the downer post, but these stories are kinda the norm in Zambia and it’s a real glimpse into life here.