Day 8 (July 1) began in Livingstone, where our group split up again to visit different schools and community spaces. My group started at Ebenezer Orphanage / Ebenezer School, where we spent the morning with younger learners.
Before beginning our activity, we peeked into a few classrooms. One space in particular stood out to me because two classrooms were connected, with an open area between them. The students were engaged and participating, which I loved seeing, but the sound carried so much between the rooms that it was hard to imagine trying to teach and learn in that environment every day.
From there, we went to the reading center, where students were being introduced to a new story. Each of us was paired with two learners, and I worked with two boys on Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I began by reading the story aloud and asking them what they thought might happen based on the pictures. Then they took turns reading the story out loud, alternating pages. After reading, they illustrated the story and wrote a short summary.
After the reading center, we went to the kitchen to help stir and serve nshima to the students. The students lined up to receive their portions, clapping and curtsying as they were served. A couple of preschoolers kept running back and forth from their classroom to give hugs, which was another of those small, sweet moments that I will cherish.
Usually, the students wash their own bowls, but our group took over that job for the day. It quickly became clear how busy that task was. There were not enough bowls for every student to have one at the same time, so as soon as one student finished, the bowl had to be washed quickly so it could be used by the next person in line.
After helping in the kitchen, we were asked to make new anchor charts for the school. I was assigned to create a poster comparing wild animals and domestic animals. As I worked, one of the workers watched over my shoulder, fascinated by the drawing process. He asked how I could draw so quickly and confidently. I told him the honest answer: practice.
He wanted to know what he should do if he practiced drawing for 40 minutes every day and how long it would take him to improve. I explained blind contour drawing and told him that I thought it was one of the best exercises for building observational drawing skills. I also told him that a full year of practicing 40 minutes a day would lead to exceptional growth. I appreciated that conversation because it gave me a chance to talk about drawing not as talent alone, but as a skill that grows through observation and steady practice.
Later in the morning, we traveled to what I believe was another Ebenezer School location, possibly for older learners. The classroom setting felt different from the younger students’ space earlier in the day, but the students were just as welcoming.
After our school visits, we returned to the hotel for lunch, where I tried crocodile skewers. I was not sure what to expect, but I really enjoyed them - one more opportunity to try something new while we were in Livingstone.
After lunch, we drove out to visit Sinde Village through the Children in the Wilderness program. Sinde Village is connected to Wilderness Safaris’ Toka Leya Camp and is made up of four smaller villages: Katiba, Lypwaya, Siatela, and Mulauli. Through Children in the Wilderness, students from the local Twabuka Primary School participate in an Eco-Club led by trained Eco-Mentors.
When we arrived, we were taught how to “knock” before entering the home of Senior Chief Musokotwane of the Leya and Tonga people. Instead of walking directly into the compound, we clapped our hands and called, “Odi, Odi,” a respectful way of asking permission to enter. Once we were welcomed in, we sat on mats, benches, and chairs while our hosts shared information about the village and their cultural practices.
One demonstration showed how women can walk long distances while balancing heavy water buckets on their heads, keeping their hands free to carry other items or care for a child. We were able to ask questions while the chief sat nearby observing.
Afterward, we watched the chief play a game in the dirt with his granddaughter. It looked similar to Mancala, but with more rows and a different rhythm to the play. It was one of my favorite moments of the visit because it felt relaxed and personal, a small glimpse of daily life they were willing to share with strangers.
After spending time at the chief’s home, we were invited to walk down the road to visit one of the family compounds in the village. Several children walked along with us, holding hands and staying close as we moved through the sandy paths. We were shown one of the homes, built with mud walls and a thatched roof, and were told that these structures can last around ten years.
Nearby, another house was being built, and we could see the wooden posts already set into the ground for the frame. Outside, chickens moved through the compound, laundry hung along the fence line, and we saw an outdoor latrine with a curtain for privacy. The visit gave us a closer look at the materials, routines, and practical design choices that shape homes there.
As we left, I kept noticing the chief’s presence. He seemed relaxed and approachable, but still carried a quiet authority. From the bus, I watched him talking with our driver and guide, and then he and his granddaughter waved as we pulled away. It felt like a fitting end to the visit. We had been welcomed in, invited to listen and ask questions, and sent off with a wave.
On our way out, we passed a group of boys walking together in a procession. Our driver shared that they were taking part in a coming-of-age tradition - just another reminder that we were only seeing small pieces of much larger cultural practices.
That night, our group reflection brought the day to an emotional close. Sabrina led us in an activity where we stood in a circle with our eyes closed while small groups stepped into the center. They were given prompts like “touch someone you have learned from” or “touch someone you now consider a friend.” It was quiet, simple, and unexpectedly powerful.
After more than a week of traveling, learning, and processing together, the gentle taps on our shoulders became a kind of wordless thank-you. The places we visited mattered deeply, but so did the relationships forming between the people traveling, learning, and processing together.
