Azure skies, ruby roads, sparkling eyes, moving feet, swerving cars, and me. Where do I fit in this beautiful and wild mix? Do I fit? I think I am still wading my way through this new experience. Although I am sifting through this cultural transition, I am sure this is the most remarkable place I have visited so far. The culture shock I’m experiencing seems to come from having American background knowledge on Africa and now experiencing the real thing. Yes, poverty is part of daily life, but it does not define the people. The spirit of the Zambian people inspires me. Men, women, and children are all eager to talk to and greet us. When they need to go somewhere, shoes or not, they make the trip by foot. Materials are carted around on bikes, peoples’ heads, or a mother’s back. Despite what we may define as third world the Zambians, in my mind, are of the first world. First to smile and introduce themselves, first to welcome us, first to cook for us and teach us how to eat their food, first to laugh and play, first to be thankful for what they have, the first to share what little resources they have with the white well off women visiting them. In my short stay so far whatever cultural differences exist we are wrong to think anything less of the Zambians due to their economic and technological status.