This past Thursday I got to relive my glory days. I was back
at the starting line for a race. I was back on the court. In celebration of
Zambia’s holiday called Youth Day, CCAP youth from Midlands Presbytery gathered
at field on the campus of University of Zambia. I got to dust off the old
running shoes (and by dust of I mean wipe off the mud of rainy season that
cakes them) and run and shoot some hoops again.
I got to the football (soccer) pitch when the first heat of
boys took off in a 400 meter dash. Immediately my heart was in my stomach and
my adrenaline was pumping. I knew this feeling of squeamish excitement. The
same butterflies used to visit me before a race or game began. Pretty soon it
was time for me to race. I took off at a good pace and trailed slightly behind
one girl in front of me. I lost some ground around the perpendicular turns
(this was not real track but a rectangular field) and around the 200 meter mark
the “tireds” set in. Not knowing if I could keep up the pace, I just kept on
keeping on. The final turn was coming up. The last stretch. This was my sweet
spot. Always has been. Hopefully always will. With a little over 100 meters to
go, I turned on the gas and passed up my competition at about 50 meters to
go!!!
I vividly remember my sister, Precious’s, distinct cheering
as I made my final push.
Yes, I love racing. That hasn’t changed.
Next was netball. Not to be confused with basketball. I
learned that lesson pretty quickly, although I also learned I couldn’t quit
some of my basketball habits. Netball is a very popular game for women in
Zambia. It is played on asphalt with two hoops and various lines on the ground
that determine if a player is off sides. Only the one center player on each
team has full range of the court and one other player, the shooter, always
stays near the hoop.
Similar to basketball, the ball is thrown up in the air at
the center of the court. But unlike basketball, once a player has the ball they
must almost immediately pass the ball. At one point I thought I was showing off
some awesome pivot moves, giving my teammates some time to get open, when I
found out I had violated the rules and needed to pass the ball immediately
after I had secured it. I quickly learned that my passing habits from
basketball also needed to change. In basketball, low, fast passes are great to
get the ball to an open teammate. In netball, one barely has enough time to find
an open player so high, lofty passes are better to give your teammate time to
jump or position themselves to get the ball. These rules
make for fast paced, scrappy game, and oh my, these ladies got into it. We
played two halfs, each to seven points, and in the end Lusaka Central (my
congregation—woot woot!) took the trophy home!
This was one of the most fun days I’ve had in Zambia. There
is something special about playing sports. Other worries dissolve as you focus
on the game. A hard race takes your breath away, but when your breath comes
back the endorphins and pumping heart give you a feeling of healthy
accomplishment. Playing netball was an awesome way to cross cultures. They were
teaching me something new, and even graciously forgiving my mistakes. Whereas I
often find myself hitting a language barrier, lost in Nyanja, Tombuka, or Bemba
conversations I don’t understand, as sports players we communicated with simple
language, body positions, smiles and high fives. When I scored my first point,
I was so surprised I did this raised double fist thing in celebration, and let
me tell you, everyone got a kick out of that.
I am very thankful for this opportunity to do something I
love with the people I love here.
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