Joel and Jenny's Adventures

2012-01-24T19:18:00.003+02:00

A Few Random Photos

Nadia, James and Rya

Making Russian Tea Cakes for Christmas with Mommy

Got Milk

Bilene Beach

Relaxing at Bilene with Nate, Deanna and Emily

2012-01-24T18:12:00.001+02:00

Control
There are things I can’t control:
- How hot (and humid) it is--regularly 30 C = mid-80's F with 70% humidity
- That our apartment is on the 4th floor apartment with no barrier between our ceiling and the roof and does not have cross-ventilation. And that is baked every sunny day from 1:00-sundown (around 6:45 PM).
- The weather—when the forecast is for cool, rainy weather one day and the next it is changed to hot, humid weather and the rain never comes
- That our neighbor after over a month of telling him that his water tank is leaking into our bathroom and destroying our wall, still hasn’t fixed it

There are things I can control
- Where I sit in our apartment in the heat—so far I’ve discovered sitting in the tub is the coolest spot
- What we cook in the hot weather
- How many cold showers I take a day
- How I react to disappointing weather predictions
- How I react to the constant leak in our bathroom

Things I can be thankful for
- Ceiling fans and floor fans
- Adequate water
- That it usually cools down overnight
- That though the water consistently leaks, it’s not flooding the bathroom
- That our bathroom is much cooler than the rest of our apartment

2012-01-21T19:26:00.002+02:00

The Drama never Ends

I will try not to go into all the detail of everything that has happened over the last half year or so but I want all to know that it has been mostly good so this is definitely a glass half empty post.

For starters we have dealt over the past year with two water tanks above our apartment whose leaks have filtered into our apartment, spoiled the paint in our bedroom and started growing mold. We appealed to our neighbors, the head of the building and such but it took rather 6 months to get fixed. Not very neighborly I didn't think. They should have met Mr. Rodgers cause it was not a good day in the neighborhood. Unfortunately as soon as that stopped we received a new neighbor who proceeded to use the other cement tank above our bathroom even though we advised against it. It started overflowing running water into our bathroom. We complained. He added a plastic tank but continues to use the cement one and tried to put a new tube in. This tube drips and causes the water to constantly drip into the bathroom. I approached him numerous times, called our landlord and talked to our apartment head to no avail. We have settled for a bucket that collects the water and we keep our fan on to dry the wetness that appears on the wall and ceiling in our bedroom and bathroom each time it rains and as the water leaks out of the cracks in his tank.

Then, two weeks before we took off for Christmas to South Africa my wife ended up in the hospital, complications from the pregnancy. I have been in charge of getting groceries and cooking along with my regular work at the CCM office. As soon as she was out the guard came up and asked me to fix a tiny dripping down at ground level from my water meter. I decided I would fix it right away so as to keep my integrity. He came and fixed it a little bit but it still dripped, but less. I called him in again, big mistake. I should have left well enough alone. His cranking on the pipe broke the plastic pipe coming from the city water and we had 'old faithful' with water running out of the apartment and toward the street. Plumbers tend to mix plastic and metal piping to save cost . This he told me as he prepared another plastic pipe...hmmm. The water had to much pressure for him to stop it. It was embarrassing as neighbors went by shaking there head and saying, 'confusao' or confusion, literally translated, but basically means 'sorry for you, I am glad it is not me'. Confusion is not something Mozambicans like. After two hours he finally stopped it but we were without water.

Meanwhile, I had just managed to catch my breath and my MCC colleague calls me and says that our coordinator, who is coming in from South Africa, is driving in with what she thought was appendicitis. Given Jenny and I are the only ones with international drivers licences of the three of us, we ended up having to rescue her on December 23rd in the worst traffic of the year. It was the first time I saw my very considerate wife, cutting people off and butting in line. She half considered taking the sidewalk. We postponed our vacation to make sure she got through surgery alright. We left on the 24th, and had a great relaxing 5 days. On returning, however, the plumber who promised to fix our water when we were gone had taken off to Inhambane, about 400 kms up he coast. We called him right away and he was on his way back and fixed it the next day. Needless to say we were not impressed.

So, all has gone well since and most of the time we stayed house sitting for a friend in a really nice house next to a park in a nicer section of the city.

Oh, I almost forgot. We went to visit friends along Costa de Sol. It turns out it was the last day of vacation for most people. The road was filled with cars and you could not see the sand on the beach because of the quantity of people swimming and partying. On the way back we were trapped in traffic when we were suddenly hit from behind by a driver and his two lady friends who had been drinking. I kept calm and tried to ask what we could do. They blamed me for stopping suddenly. I had been stopped in the line. I said we should call the police to sort it out. They said I was causing, 'confusao'. There it is again, confusion. This time it means "You are going to cause me unnecessary problems, dummy". I tried to talk with our administrator in Beira and my phone was almost snatched from my hand by the man asking for my phone number and details. I tried to be patient and told him I would as soon as I was off the phone. I tried to get into the car to get away so I could talk in peace with my wife. He reached in and took my car keys. I almost slugged him...but I didn't. Fortunately our maid happened by with some friends and managed to help us call the police. I sat and watched as heated words were exchanged and fights almost broke out periodically. Amazingly in Africa your hired persons and their friends automatically stick up for you. They were great.

Needless to say the police never showed, they were more interested in getting bribes up the road. I had a terrible time filing the police report the next day trying to convince the police officer that I was not drinking the night before and it was the reason that I had not called the police. I had just said that I did call the police....aaaah. Police are less then helpful.

We returned yesterday from our friend's house.

Today, our water stopped....the tank was empty...what now. Hauling water up 5 flights of stairs and bucket baths. Managing our water resources. At least, Gondola taught us how to live without water in the house. But with a 2 year old and one on the way, this is not a good scenario. What's wrong? It worked fine a few weeks ago. Is there not enough pressure? Did the city water not run the last two days? Do we have plumbing problems or is it plugged? Did they cut our water? I will not know until tomorrow when the city water turns on. The big question is how I am going to sleep tonight and when can I go back to the land of flowing water and electricity, where the food appears on shelves on discount, where police actually have fast cars and use them, where there are ambulances, neighbors can be sued for problems they cause to your property and where ice cream does not melt before you can eat it.

2011-12-10T15:44:00.002+02:00

Snakes and Weapons
“Living with a gun in your bedroom, is like sleeping with a snake, one day it might just turn around and bite you.” Bishop Denis Sengulane, Anglican Church of Mozambique

“To ‘live without resort to arms’ is a spiritual, a practical and implies also a political position.” Rev. Dr. Olav Fykse Tveit, General secretary, World Council of Churches

I am slowly learning a vocabulary in Portuguese that I barely have vocabulary for in English. I am more comfortable with the theoretical vocabulary of peace and justice than the practical vocabulary of weapons. I am learning about AK-47s, grenades and triggers. It’s not something I would have thought about learning when I wrote my first research paper in 10th grade about why I believe in non-violence. Non-violence doesn’t have any thing to do with weapons, right? Non-violence eschews the use of weapons so why do I need to know about them?

I am working with the Transforming Arms into Ploughshares (TAE) project of the Christian Council of Mozambique (CCM). TAE was one of CCM’s responses to helping build peace after the war ended in 1992. The churches were involved helping people reconcile, welcoming their friends, neighbors and family members back to the community, even when they fought (voluntary or conscripted) on opposite sides of the war. As a way to promote peace, TAE emerged as a means to collect weapons from people. They deactivated the weapons they received, offered material rewards for the weapons (metal roofing, cement, bicycles, etc) and found a number of artists interested in spreading the gospel of peace by creating sculptures with the decommissioned arms. As I work with TAE, I am learning some of the vocabulary of weapons.

The message of peace is powerful, life-giving. Peace takes time. The American Civil Rights Movement in the mid-1900’s accomplished a lot through non-violence but it took time. I think of Bishop Segulane’s quote. Few of us are enamored enough with snakes to want to wake up with one in our bedroom. Here in Mozambique, people do not like snakes and if they happen upon one, they kill it, immediately. Since 1995, when TAE began, over 800,000 weapons have been collected. Some are destroyed on the spot—there is still a bullet in the gun, a live hand grenade—with dynamite and the community watching. Functioning, empty weapons get their triggers broken so they cannot be used again and are transported back to Maputo to be made into sculptures. As powerful as the message of peace is; the irony is how often we believe in the lie of having a weapon is protection: the lie of redemptive violence.

What would our world look like if, following the Rev. Dr. Olav Fykse Tveit’s quote was a reality? That like the TAE sculpture in the British Museum called the Tree of Life, if relics of past wars would be fused together to create something profound and holy as a symbol of the victory of peace and reconciliation and a reminder that violence doesn’t solve problems? How would we live differently if we chose “to live without resort to arms”?

2011-12-04T19:19:00.000+02:00

ATMs

I don't quite understand the ATMs here in this country. It is wonderful to have ATMs. They seem to be on every other corner in Maputo, a sign that people have more disposable income and the country is moving up in the world. They are well lit and usually have a guard. Our closest bank is right across the street next to a market and a huge dumpster. The market is probably the seediest place in the area, especially at night, but at least the ATMs are on the opposite side from the market.

This is what happens when I go to get money out. You wait in line, sometimes quite a long time. When you finally make it to the ATM you want to be quick because people may get upset behind you if you take too much time. This is, of course, aggravated if the computer is not working well and taking time. This used to happen to me when we lived in Chimoio but less here in Maputo. People still get upset even if it is not your fault and attempts to explain that the ATM was slow can fall on deaf ears. Most ATMs will make loud 'beeps' when you are pressing in your code announcing "Yoo Hoo" to everyone that you are entering into your account and calling all would be theives to your whereabouts. You quickly type in 'levantamento' which means you are taking money out. It takes about 30 seconds, you look around and in the mirror to make sure no one is watching. And if they are not, the ATM makes sure that everyone is by making a loud 'whoommmpf' as your money comes out. Jenny assured me this noise can be heard on the otherside of the divided main street even when there is traffic. This noise does not happen when you are paying bills, looking up the account balance or any other numerous transactions that can be made, only when you take money out. You quickly stuff your money into any part of you but your wallet so that people do not see but the noise has already made it as obvious as if there was a sign pointed down saying,"This guy just took out money, come and get it". Who designed this thing anyway?

2011-12-04T16:25:00.000+02:00

Sunday afternoons in our house

2011-12-02T20:44:00.000+02:00

Nadia's prayer
Nadia's learning how to pray. Today at lunch her prayer was something like this: "Thank you God for peanut butter and jam and Tia (Rebeca, our household help)and Mommy and Daddy...in Jesus' name, Amen."
We had rice and beans for lunch...

2011-12-02T20:41:00.000+02:00

Five Years
We recently passed our five year anniversary in Mozambique. Five years sounds significant; but for me, it’s a reminder of how much transition we have gone through since November 2006. We have lived in three distinct places (not even counting the three months we spent in Beira for language study or the three months we were in Johannesburg, South Africa waiting for Nadia to be born). We started our assignment in Gondola and two years later moved to Chimoio. A little over a year later we moved to Maputo, where we’ve been for almost the past year and a half. My job has changed as much or more than we’ve moved—first working with the women of the Mennonite church in Gondola and the Women’s Society of the Christian Council of Mozambique in Chimoio, to savings groups through the Women’s Society of the United Church of Christ, to the Peace Building Department of the Christian Council of Mozambique to now the Transformacao de Armas em Enxadas (TAE—Turning Weapons into Ploughshares) of CCM. Our MCC team has been changing—adding people, subtracting people and now after 5 years, no one except for two Mozambican office workers, are the same people with whom we started. Our family has changed—adding Nadia in 2009 and the anticipation of our second child in early 2012. About the only things that have remained constant through the change are our steadily improving our Portuguese language skills and the constant search for finding God and relevance in a culture different than our own.

We have one more year to go, completing six years in Mozambique. It hasn’t been an easy journey. Would I do it again? I’d have to seriously think about it, though I have known the whole time this is where God wants us to be. I’ve wondered what it was like for people as they anticipated leaving their assignments/Mozambique. Now I’m at the point where I find myself thinking ahead to October 2012 and our leaving more than I think about where I am. I struggle being present beyond the details that daily living demands. I have a lot of questions of where we will go, what we will do, what it will be like to return to the States in our mid-30s with two children, having left only being a couple—DINKS (double income, no kids) as someone once described us.

What have I learned these five years that I will take with me? (in no particular order)

- God is good
- God is faithful
- Sometimes being present is all I can do and though it doesn’t feel like it, it is enough
- Showing up is skill
- I like the challenge of finding recipes based on seasons and produce locally available
- Children open and close doors
- I really value running water—with hot and cold as options—though a bucket bath with warm water outdoors is nice
- One of my favorite things is having tea outside (black tea in a teapot with a bit of milk, occasionally some sugar)
- As my mother used to say, “attitude follows action”
- I’m okay with having basically only one hobby—reading and need to always be involved with a book (I’m really looking forward to libraries in the States!)
- We waste resources whenever they feel unlimited, no matter our station in life
- Being poor is NOT glamorous or happier
- Mozambique, for as poor as it is, is a really expensive place to live—I feel for those who do not have enough
- Food security is huge stress on a family, community and society
- Clean water from the spigot in one’s house is a luxury for many people
- Walking, as opposed to driving to places, can be a radical choice of discipleship
- Forgiveness is freedom
- There’s a lot of value to insulation and crawl spaces between ceilings and roofs.
- The story of the little boy giving his five loaves of bread and two fishes to Jesus to feed the crowd of over 5000 people makes a lot more sense when I’ve eaten small fish and rolls and it’s a common meal for local people.
- The beach is a livelihood for some people; for others it’s a place for vacation
- Many people who have grown up just a few kilometers away from the ocean do not know how to swim

I know I’ve learned a lot more these five years. I wonder how I have changed. What will it be like to open the boxes of household goods that we’ve stored at my parents’ when we get back? Will I be astounded at what I chose to keep? Will I find joy in sets of matching sets of sheets? Will I feel overwhelmed by American culture? How will these six years in Mozambique affect my outlook and my lifestyle? My faith?

2011-11-19T14:10:00.000+02:00

Cat Like Animals

So I was traveling in some beautiful country in Massangena this past week. It is near the Zimbabwean border and on the other side of Kruger National Park, one of the largest game reserves in Southern Africa. It was virgin territory and quite beautiful. As we drove through the virgin forest savannah, a little animal darted across the road and bounded up the tree. It looked a lot like a squirrel. Jon, disagreed with me so we thought we would ask our Mozambican colleagues from the area. They said it was a locally known as a 'skiiroll'.

Ok, that was not very helpful because we needed to know some more information because it obviously was not a Portuguese word. We asked them to describe the animal a bit more. They said it was a cat like creature. Jon and I debated what it could be, a mongoose, cervet, bushbaby, lizard, we were not sure. I still thought it was a squirrel. We asked them some more questions to figure out what it is. They said that it lives in holes in the trees and eats nuts. Aha, I was sure it was a squirrel. Jon, however, was surprised to know that it existed in Moz or Southern Africa. I said that I had seen them before near Beira but they were times when I saw the animal up close and an English speaking African was able to confirm it. I had also seen them in the guide to Southern African mammals.

But skiroll, what kind of a name....wait...skiirowl...squirrol...squirrel...aha!!!

Turns out it was the same word but from Zimbabwean English. Yet adding Portuguese and African Indigineous pronunciation to the word and you get some unrecognizable form of the same word, for the same animal we know in North America.

We had a good laugh.

2011-11-13T16:47:00.000+02:00

A Day in the life of Traveling in Mozambique

I just returned from Massangena, a small town in the far north-west of Gaza Province to scout out the possibility of sand dams and agriculture work in the district. I will fill in more details later but I wanted to give a picture of a typical trip in Mozambique as I have experienced it over the past 5 years.

We were told it would be at worst 14 hours drive, depending on the roads. Fortunately our partner decided to meet us at Macia which would cut 3 hours off the drive. Jon, our engineer, and I left at 4 in the morning from Maputo. We arrived at Macia just a little after 6 and waited half an hour for our partner. Our partner arrived but needed to fill up with fuel. Why this did not happen yesterday, I do not know. We enjoyed time playing cards for 30-40 minutes and then followed their car to the Anglican Church which they said was a secure place for our car to park during the week away.
On the road again we headed to Chokwe about an hours drive past a large canal system built by the Portuguese and a monument of a crashed plane, a Rhodesian plane that was shot down after it bombed a bridge at the nearby Save river. Apparently our colleague was teaching there at the time it happened. It was not all that was bombed. It so happened that money had not been advanced soon enough for our partner to purchase food prior to the trip so I had brought money along. We spent the next hour purchasing food and grabbing some quick sandwiches and soda pop at a café. We finally got on the road at 11:00. The next 5-6 hours were spent on a dirt road where we were tossed to and from in our seats. I am well used to this by now and can usually doze with the flow of the rhythms of tires hitting bumps and the lurch of the car. Fortunately Jon had brought his I-pod and we listened to at least 3 episodes from Car Talk, passing the time. Mid-way through the trip it became clear that the tailgate has trouble staying shut and on hitting a bump flew open and we lost one cooler full of soda pop and juice. Figuring it was long gone we tied things back up with rope and headed on. It happened a second and a third time in which we tried to manage. The fourth time we heard a bang and all of the fuel containers flew out the back. We went back to survey the damage and two fuel containers had broken and were slowly spilling diesel all over the ground. The lid on the second cooler was also gone. We wrestled with the knotted mess of rope to get the containers untied and proceeded to fill our fuel tank with a make shift funnel made from a water bottle. This was quite an ordeal which left us all dirty and we ended up having to flush out our friend’s eye with water because diesel had splashed in it. To further complicate things, there was still fuel in the containers and could not be hauled in our truck with bedding and food. We ended up picking a spot in the trees to hide the two containers for the way back and Jon marked the coordinates in his GPS. We stopped in the next village and bought some rope to tie things down better.

We headed on with the tailgate securely tied. By the time we reached the crossroads at Mapai to catch the road to the interior past national parks and virtually uninhabited country, it was 6 PM. After 4-5 more hours we pulled into the town, ate some quickly made spaghetti and went to bed.

Of course this was just the trip up.

Fortunately the week went well and we did not have trouble when visiting the villages. We had to patch a tire at some point but it was easily done by someone in the village who had a makeshift tire repair garage under a structure of wooden posts and leafy branches. We headed home on Friday at 6, hoping to visit a few communities on the way out and to reach my car soon enough for me to go home.

The village visits took longer then expected, as usual, though it was some virgin territory and truly beautiful so all was forgiven. We traveled the rest of the way to the crossroads at Mapai but mid-way the RPMs started revving up and down when our colleague shifted gears. I had seen this problem before. It seemed like a clutch going bad and had already happened to me twice in the last two years with our own MCC cars. Fortunately we made it just to Mapai and barely made it over the little hill going over the railroad tracks and into town. Had the road been hilly instead of completely flat, things would have been worse. It was noon and before long the car was under a tree with 5 mechanics under it. Apparently there other cars waiting for service in front of us, as we found out later, but someone had told them that we needed to catch a plane the next day. This was untrue but I guess this is their way of speeding up the process. Jon and I retired to a café for lunch and a couple rounds of Cribbage. We threw Frisbee, worked on our computers, took walks, stood in line at the pay phone to communicate to people back home and Jon entertained practically the whole village when he suddenly jumped up on hearing a train to put a penny on the tracks.

It was well around 8 in the evening when we were eating supper that our car pulled up and after explaining to the woman serving us how to make omelets instead of just plain eggs for supper, we ate and were on our way. The ride went fairly well with only one stop for us to retrieve our fuel containers under the tree and fill the tank up with the remaining fuel. We took a detour to take Jon to his lodging. He was to meet Samaritan’s Purse personnel to do some studies with them the next day. I rolled into the village where my car was at 4 in the morning. My colleague was driving kind of funny as we drove in with an inconsistent speed, clearly too tired to think and to drive effectively. I had whiplash from falling asleep and my head getting yanked as the car flew over bumps. I curled up in the car and went to sleep right away.

Promptly at 6 AM I was ripped from sleep when my phone rang…Aaargh…

The head of the Gaza program wanted to know why I had not stopped by to give him a report on the trip and visit their office, an important thing in Mozambican hierarchical culture. I quickly explained the breakdown and the inability to communicate without cell phone service. Never mind that it was not me who should have been in communication with him anyway.
I pulled myself up and drove from Macia to Maputo to home at 9 AM. My wonderful wife had breakfast made and waiting. Bless her heart!

TravelA GaT

2011-11-09T17:02:00.000+02:00

The Heat

It’s getting hot again. Today’s forecast is for 38 C (99ish F). Living on the top floor of a cement apartment building with little cross ventilation, we feel the heat. I’ve often wondered why Mozambique wasn’t on a different time zone. At the height of summer (December), the sun rises at four-something in the morning and sets by 7:00 PM. Last night as I watch the waning stretches of the sun’s rays leave our walls at 6:05 PM, I thanked God for the relief in the heat. I went around to all windows and opened the drawn curtains to let the breeze flow more freely. In the winter, we do not have any sunlight in our house. In the summer it starts creeping in at 12:00 and come 3:00 in the afternoon, if we did not close curtains, it’d be more than sweltering. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still hot, but I find relief in finding ways to prevent the sun from entering.

2011-10-01T20:36:00.003+02:00

Sand Dams

I meant to write weeks ago about my trip to Tete and Manica to see the sand dams and agriculture but life got in the way. I had a wonderful time riding around on a motorcycle with Jon, except for our accident at the end which left us only a little bloodied but with the joy of pushing a broken motorcycle 8 kilometers to the main highway where help could be found to fix it.

Thombo Sand Dam

This trip was exciting for many reasons. Probably the most remarkable was Thombo where a sand dam had been built about a year and a half ago. It has since collected rain from almost two rainy seasons. The change is incredible with lots of vegetable production. Water did not exist in this community after early June in this community in the past. Last year the water ended up staying until late August. This year it looks like it will stay around all year until the next rains even with intensive irrigation. Incredible results. The community was clearly happy and some farmers gave us some of their production in thanks.

Thombo Vegetables

I then visited Phiri Meque and Capinga, both are following the same pattern as Thombo with lots of production. Capinga was interesting for me because they started using Moringa trees for live fences to keep the cattle out of the gardens instead of cutting down all of the trees, an idea I had encouraged for several years. It was good to see it was happening. I also saw the first attempts at conservation agriculture, also something I had encouraged in the program. They are also experimenting with rock check dams, little rocky piles across gulleys and waterways to slow erosion and increase infiltration of water into the soil in the fields. Phiri Meque Fields

We walked across the river to Mandie and I saw Thichira. Again, this community is in the second year of rains but it seems that the water will be around all year round. What is so remarkable here is that I could see the line of green of the vegetables, fruit and trees with leaves in the valley in contrast to the leafless trees and dormant, dry grass in the surrounding landscape. This extens up the valley as far as the eye can see, meaning water is conserved up about a km under the surface of the sand and soil.

These are the things that encourage me. It has been 5 years here in Mozambique but the fruit is beginning to show.

Thichira Kale

Thichira Valley Above Dam - note the dry hillsides in contrast with the green trees and plant in the valley

2011-10-01T20:02:00.000+02:00

Ghost in the Darkness

Last night I was awoken in the middle of the night suddenly by light. It was about 12 o'clock and I realized that the light was on and Jenny was looking at me.

She said,"What did you do that for?"

Strange, I thought. Why would she be asking me that question. Did she not see that I had just woken up. I asked her why she turned the light on.

"I thought you did," was her reply.

Again, strangeness. My first thought was, "Then who did?".

I believe her thoughts were the same because we both looked toward the door. Suddenly we realized we were not alone. There was a third person in the room. We almost yelled with fright at the strange ghostly outline of.......

.....our daughter.

To give you some background. We had just passed a milestone. We took out the crib and she has begun to sleep on a mattress until we can get her a proper bed. So she can now get out of bed and she apparently walked over to our room and turned on the light. But she did not say anything and after we regained our senses we noticed her lower lip protruding, clearly with fright about ready to cry.

"It must have scared you," Jenny said to Nadia.

"Scared", she mumbled.

Jenny held her a bit and took her back to her room. Apparently the mosquito net fell down. Poor thing! That must have been awful. I would have been scared, or frustrated, either one would create a protruding lower lip.

We put her back to bed, thankful it was not a ghost!

2011-10-01T19:51:00.000+02:00

Those in the Street

There is a man that lives on our corner. He is not mentally right. I am not sure what is wrong but he is not right. He is always around and people know he exists but most of the time he is left alone to do whatever it is he does. It seems like he goes around and picks up the trash in the area and puts it into the trash bin. I have noticed that in Maputo the homeless or those mentally handicapped seem to each have their territory in the city. I have been told by people that he picks up trash for the businesses. I am not sure if he gets paid food or what for doing this but somehow he has clothes and somehow he gets food. I hear him wondering around at night sometimes hitting the trash can.

This has been a huge weight on me because I understand Jesus message of justice for the poor and needy but I fail to see what role we can have in such a man’s life and honestly, in my flesh, I am scared to do anything or commit to anything. There are so many questions I think about. What if I talk to him, will he understand? Will it make any difference? Does he need food? I know in my heart I am not willing to give him a room to stay in and am afraid to do these things. Why? I suppose it is the uncertainty. Maybe he could hurt me. He could be on drugs. Does that mean I am not willing to follow Jesus to the utmost? I suppose it will always be a struggle and has been every time I meet someone as such. I am not sure if it is the same scenario as the Good Samaritan. The man on the side of the road could have been a normal guy that was robbed and not mentally handicapped and somehow I find it easier to think of helping someone like that then someone who is not right mentally and society has no place for him. Maybe it is because I do not know what to do. What is my role in that? One thing is for certain, it is hard to do it alone.

This morning it was raining and I was on my way to work. There were fewer people in the streets but I passed him. He normally sits next to a shop on the corner in the mornings cutting up cardboard boxes to put in the trash. As I walked up the street I heard a noise of shouting and beating. I turned around and a young man was yelling and beating him with a stick. He was groveling on the ground and his pants started to fall down. How degrading. I suddenly felt the surge of adrenaline and got really angry. Why are they beating a helpless man I thought? No matter what the cause it does not justify this. I suddenly found myself walking toward him and thought in my head that I am crazy for mixing in this business but I was too angry at the injustice of it to care, I needed to say something. I asked the guy, “What is the problem, why are you beating this man? He was very angry walking back and forth said something about him leaving trash on the sidewalk in front of the store. This was probably a just reason to be angry but not for beating someone. The only thing I could think to say was, “Do not beat him like this. Do not beat him.”

I suppose I should have picked the guy up and taken the trash and put it in the trash can but I didn’t. Maybe I did not think about it. Maybe it was because I had vented my anger and position against the injustice and was not willing to do more. Was it enough to salvage his dignity? Was it enough to call attention to the fact that this is a man and not an animal? I will never know and always be left wondering if I should have done more.

2011-09-28T16:26:00.000+02:00

Perspective
Today the forecast was for the temperature to be 24 Celcius (about 76 F). I talked with a friend of mine in the UK who was joyful because this week was hot. I asked her what hot was--today was supposed to be 26--"It's the hottest it's been all summer!" I told her I was rejoicing because it was cooler today. Later, as another MCCer and I were talking about the beautiful weather, she told me that as she was walking with a Mozambican colleague who commented, "It might be 26 but it feels like 49 (120 F)!"

2011-09-19T19:16:00.002+02:00

X Africa Games Finished

I often do not have things in common to talk about, our cultures being so different, North American vs Southern Africa, individualism vs the communal, direct vs the indirect, etc. Often the only subjects to talk about in depth are about work, kids and women (our wives of course) but only to a point since the way we raise our kids and gender roles are clearly different. But sports are universal. They have the same rules. Sure there is some different ones, netball, andebol, which are common to Southern Africa, but I can still understand the objective and the language of these games. I can still cheer at a well hit volleyball, a goal or a winning swim.

The games are over but they were fun while they lasted. Sadly, Mozambique did not win one gold medal. South Africa took the cake with something like over 150 medals. But Mozambique had a good showing. The women's basketball almost made bronze, the men's silver. Karate, boxing, canoing, swimming, chess all took bronze. Most importantly the games happened in a country that is still desperately poor and with an infrustructure that makes such events difficult to host. Hooray Mozambique!

2011-09-19T18:58:00.003+02:00

Enchiladas

I made enchiladas for supper tonight according to the recipe in the More with Less Cookbook. I’ve been thinking about them for several months, so this week I decided to make them. Making them was a four day process. On Monday, I made a double recipe of tortillas. On Tuesday, Joél bought a kilo of dried beans. Yesterday, I soaked the beans and we cooked the beans in the pressure cooker. Today, I made refried beans and assembled them. We ate them for supper. They were good but I don’t think I’ll make them again—took too much work!
15 September 2011

2011-09-19T18:57:00.000+02:00

Changing Seasons

The seasons are changing. Officially it is from winter to spring, but here it’s known by the cool season to the hot season. However, having spent the majority of my life where spring exists there are a few marks of spring.

There’s the smell of spring—that smell of opening the house up after having it closed for several months. There’s the feeling of wanting to get outside to enjoy the beautiful weather and not complaining on a hot day because it actually feels nice. I am reminded of the glorious spring days at EMU in April, trying to finish up papers, yearning to be outside instead of in my room studying—I wasn’t able focus if I tried to study outside like many other students were. There are the flowering trees, with fragrance filling the air.

Our apartment is cool; the outside is warm. I wish I could hold this coolness in but time keeps marching closer and closer to the hot season where the ceiling fans are on all the time instead of just in the evening when the house is cooling off. The sun is gradually creeping closer to the position for the hot season. Last year when I saw the sun beginning to shine in our apartment at 4:00 in the afternoon, I marveled and thought it to be my favorite time of the day. This year, watching it come in, I wonder how long will it be until it is coming in at noon and heating up our apartment for the day. Our tans are starting to come back. The familiar stripes from my Chaco sandals are becoming defined as I wear my sandals walking around the city.

Ironically, some of the trees are changing its leaves and losing them. So we see huge bright red leaves littered on the sidewalks and streets as these trees transition. The huge tree across from our apartment building in the Catholic Church’s yard is losing its leaves; in a few months it will sprout new leaves. Though the calendar reads September, for my northern hemisphered mind, I wonder if it shouldn’t be Lent and we should be preparing for Easter instead of in Common Time in the church liturgy, finishing the liturgical year.

12 September 2011

2011-09-12T20:02:00.001+02:00

Joshua

I opened my e-mail this morning and this is the message that I received:

We received the tragic news this morning that Joshua Mukusya, the CEO of Utooni Development Organization, was attacked by thugs early this morning and was shot and killed. Details are few at this point but it appears as if Joshua was traveling to his shamba (field) in Simba (about 40-60 km from Kola) when he was attacked and killed

Joshua was the man who dedicated his life to building sand dams in Kenya for the past 20 or so years. He was a passionate Christian man who dedicated his life to others to bring them water and food. He was the one who took us around in 2006 to visit the sand dams and encourage us to try in Mozambique. We knew him. He is the face we see on the videos from Excellent Development. He is the one who inspired us. He is the farmer who by his own two hands figured out that this could be done. He was the one who told us that it would be the church that would save Africa.

"Hard pressed, but not crushed, persecuted not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed." II Corinthians 4:8

May we carry on the vision.

2011-09-11T20:01:00.001+02:00

Olympic Swimming

The African Games are still going on so this morning we decided to jump in the car and head out to the complex near Zimpeto, a suburb outside of the main Maputo city where a new stadium and olympic size swimming pool have been built. We wanted to see the swimming since neither of us had ever witnessed such an event other than on tv and had never been to a pool of such caliber. We drove about 30 minutes through traffic on the new improved road with new stoplights, new median, drainage ditches and turning lanes. The traffic seemed to go a bit smoother then in the past with the new improvements but the city still needs to take other measures to manage the traffic.

The stadium was quite impressive and glorious when considering the context. It is situated right next to an informal market a km away and neighborhood which consists of mainly tin roofed, cement block homes. It would be considered slums in most parts of the world but here it is more like middle class.

We entered into the most beautiful pool arena I have ever been into with cristal clear water, electronic equipment and everything that is needed for an olympic style event. As we walked up the stairs a huge window frames the new stadium in all its glory, obviously a well planned visual. We made our way to the seating area. The first heat of swimmers were the handicapped who swam 200 meter freestyle. It was a pleasure to witness such an event with persons who were missing limbs, partly paralized and blind all competing in a world class event with dignity. We then witnessed the 50 meters and 200 meter freestyle competitions. It went on for about an hour and then it was over and we left since we still wanted to do a little bit of shopping in the city before getting home for lunch. It was quite amazing to go to such an event in a country such as this but what pride it must bring to Mozambique.

Oh, the Mozambican women's basketball team lost yesterday in the semi-finals. But hats off to them. They looked like they could compete with some of the world's best and certainly the best in Africa. Congradulations!

2011-09-08T19:37:00.000+02:00

X Africa Games

We have experienced an exciting week here in Maputo. The 10^th Africa Games are taking place here for two weeks. Events are happening all over the city include boxing, karate, cycling, soccer, swimming, canoe racing, triathlon, gymnastics, ping pong, basketball, volley ball and so on. It has been so exciting to be able to walk 15 minutes to see volleyball and basketball and hear cheers next door in the pavilion we can see from our house as the Mozambicans continue to win boxing matches.

So the other day I walked downtown to see what I could see. I passed through the crowds on the street, some going to the games others just doing normal busness. I walked right down to where there are two pavilions for basketball and volleyball. I walked right into the volleyball games without paying anything to see Cameroon and Kenya play. Wow, every bit as exciting as volleyball I have seen in the US and in a nice renovated auditorium. I am sure it would be nothing special for someone who has just come from the US where sports arenas abound but to me after 5 years in Mozambique it was like walking into the Pershing Center in Lincoln, though much smaller. These two teams happened to be the teams that one Silver and Bronze so the air was ripe with competition as Kenyans and Cameroonians danced and cheered the whole 4 matches.

Mozambique has done fairly well so far for such a poor and undeveloped country. They won their first ever medal in swimming, silver in the 100 meters. The women’s Karate won silver and the boxing is showing potential. The women’s basketball is actually quite good, basketball and football being Mozambique’s favorite sports. They have so far won all their games in front of an ecstatic Maputo crowd.

Today I went to work and I noticed there was hardly any traffic. Our maid was 45 minutes late and walked in tired and commenting on how far she had to walk. The police had stopped the traffic way out and she had to hoof it from there. The city was practically shut down most of the day. Traffic was stopped by police at all the major intersections to make way for the bicycle race that took place. Of course those in charge never told anyone when or where it would take place and it only appeared in the newspapers this morning as the morning commute, which is usually messy, was taking place. It took the city by surprise. I heard the frustration from stranded motorists throughout the day but those who were waiting just went and watched the races. You could feel the excitement in the air as bikes pass by at breakneck speeds. I decided to walk the streets and find where it was at. I had never seen a real live bike race having only watched the Tour de France and other major races on television. It turns out they were passing right by our house. Amazing! They started at 8 in the morning and now at 3 in the afternoon they are still going. We had friends that did not know it and ended up in the city. They were stranded all day and he abandoned his car and they went for ice cream.

And guess what, this will all happen again tomorrow. Tomorrow there are more bicycle races, swimming and soccer games. Saturday the basketball starts again. I hope I will get to see something.

2011-09-01T18:40:00.000+02:00

Girly Girl
It's starting to get warm again. In preparation for sandal weather, I painted my toe nails over the weekend. When Nadia discovered my dark pink nails, she wanted them too. Her feet were terribly dirty and we were in the midst of getting ready for the day, so I promised her that I would paint her nails another time. Today I came home from work and Rabeca, our househelp/babysitter told me that Nadia had gotten into the white-out and painted her own toe nails.

2011-08-21T17:07:00.000+02:00

The Selling of

Mozambique

The news was interesting today. ‘Mozambique Sells the North to Brazil’, the headlines read. Apparently the government has invited Brazilian farmers to come and rent land for 50 year leases for extremely cheap. Apparently the Brazilian banks are advertising and gearing up to give loans to these farmers. They say it is to benefit the country because Mozambicans will learn a new way of farming with big machinery. It seems suspicious to me. Why not take the Mozambicans to Brazil so they can see the farms in Brazil and return to Mozambique with new skills? Why does Mozambique need to rent cheap land, as little as $2 a hectare per year, to foreigners instead saving for their own people?

My colleagues say it is the selling of Mozambique and it will be the seeds of war and strife for future generations. Tete province has already been sold to Brazilians and Australians hungry for coal and oil, the forests are being shipped out to China as fast as it can be cut and they say Manica will be next if precious metals are discovered. It is a new colonialism with a different image than that which was started by the European powers in the past. This time it is not ivory, trade or slaves, but coal, oil and lumber. The next generation will wake up with the land again commanded by overseas nations protecting the settlers they have sent to Africa. Again it will be others who command the land and have the power over the inhabitants. Only this time it will not be Europe.

2011-08-15T18:59:00.000+02:00

Rain Day Fun
It rained today, so Nadia and I were not able to make our usual trek to the park. So we made cookies instead. Here's Nadia decorating our creations.

And with the finished products:

I only had Christmas "frinkles" (sprinkles in Nadia-ese) but it was cold today, definitely winter here in the sub-tropics.

2011-08-02T10:57:00.000+02:00

Simple pleasures

- Walking with my daughter to the park and listening to her sing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and the alphabet song
- Nadia’s version of the alphabet: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, K, K, lmnop, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z
- hanging laundry on the roof of our apartment building and enjoying the breeze and quiet solitude of being alone high above almost everything around
- buying fresh vegetables from street vendors and conversing with them
- seeing my husband’s excitement to try new recipes from his new wok cookbook and searching out the ingredients to make them
- a quiet evening at home—Nadia in bed, Joél practicing his guitar, me writing and our neighbors not making noise
- washing dishes in warm water and the resulting clean kitchen
- cup of tea

2011-08-02T10:55:00.002+02:00

Nadia’s imagination

Child development says that children between the ages of 2 and three start developing an imagination. Nadia is 2 years, 1 month and 1 week. Today I saw her imagination.
We had grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch today. She often will eat the soft bread of a sandwich before (if) eating the crusts. Today as she worked on one of the crusts of a quarter of her sandwich, she said to me. “This is a kitten.” Then she held it to her chest protected by her bib and proceeded to pet it. Then she told me, “The kitten is soft. I yuv [love] it.” This happened for a few minutes until the crusts separated from each other. I felt awkward because I wanted her to finish eating her sandwich but didn’t want to encourage her to eat a kitten or to stop her imagination. When the crusts broke apart, she told me, “The kitten broke.” Then carried on eating her sandwich with no more comments about a kitten.
Then later on in the day, she went to the potty. She sat for a while then stood up, and proclaimed, “I made mud!” (poop in her words). Then as she looked at it, she told me, “It’s an elephant!” “It’s a snake. Sssssss.”
Welcome to the world of imagination!

2011-07-31T13:46:00.000+02:00

Friends at Last
Nadia finally made friends with Jon in our past visit to Beira. From the beginning, Jon has been the only one that Nadia has not warmed up to. For being such a nice, warm guy, we cannot figure this out. Maybe there is something untrustworthy in his big smile. Who knows. But they finally made friends, or at least for a couple days and than she was back to avoiding him like before.

Besides resisting Jon's advances, Nadia's other accomplishments of late:

Singing almost the entire ABC song, Doe a Deer, Daisy Daisy and Little Teapot
Saying the verse "We all like sheep have gone astray, etc." through to the end.
Jumping
Throwing a tantrum that makes her bed jump and make a horrible racket against the wall.
Take her shoes off by herself
Climb in and out of her carseat, booster seat and stroller by herself
Rinse dishes: She hands them to daddy while they sing together

2011-07-25T15:35:00.002+02:00

I don't understand...
I don't understand the apartment two floors below us. Our apartments are not well ventilated nor do we have varandas off of them. But they still insist on cooking in their kitchen with charcoal. They had a fire in their kitchen at 3 AM on Sunday morning. And this morning, the smoke from their charcoal wafted through the chimney into my kitchen.

2011-07-24T15:09:00.003+02:00

Fire!!!

The news of Haiti's earthquakes was fresh in my mind last year as we moved to Maputo into a 5 story, cement apartment building. I understand why disasters of such are terrible for the third world where everything is made of cement and is often not made or cured properly. What never really crossed my mind was fire. Ok, maybe I gave it a brief passing thought. Our apartment is completely sealed with iron bars to keep out theft. This makes sense but I doubt it would pass fire code in the US. I remember in school getting little stickers of firemen that we could put on a window that is our escape route in a fire. Fat chance here, I would need to sleep with a bolt cutters under the bed. I guess our best escape is out the door and down the stairs which makes the most sense anyway.

So fire was an option but not really much of one given my understanding that cement does not burn as much as wood :). I had come down with a cold last night from our long trip by bus from Beira. These colds following the long trip to Beira are becoming a habit. I guess getting up at 3 in the morning and spending time on a bus with 30 people from Beira for 15 hours increases the chance of catching cold. Duh! In anycase, I could not sleep and decided to get up for some medicine for my headache. I went to the kitchen in search of water. I noticed the windows were fogged up and I heard a funny noise. I decided to open up the window and it was a good thing because to my shock my head stuck out into smoke and sparks coming from below.

"This is not good," I thought. If verbalized it would have been the understatement of the year. I instantly thought of all we ever owned in Mozambique going up in smoke in our apartment in Mozambique.

"Oh, well" is what I thought. "Nothing I can do about it. I had better get Jenny and Nadia out."

Thankfully the smoke had not penetrated any of our rooms but was just beginning too. We grabbed our shoes, documents and Nadia and headed downstairs only stalling to get a couple of buckets. I thought it could come in handy. Jenny grabbed our entire cash box and stashed it somewhere on her person. She did a good job of concealing it because I never noticed it.

We joined other onlookers on the street to see the window of the apartment two flights down on fire. I remember it was the one that usually cooks with charcoal in their window and sends smoke up to the second level. It must have caught the plastic that they were using to conceal it. Jenny used to always complain about the smell and the stupidity of live fire for cooking in a building such as this. We had already taken a child to the hospital in Gondola because of the fumes given off by a charcoal fire in a closed house. So it was not a complete suprise to us that this was the apartment that was on fire.

The fires had actually diminished by the time we got down but I did not know it. Someone had already knocked on the door but no one answered in the apartment. I thought surely they would be harmed by smoke inhalation. My first thoughts were to get water and climb up the veranda and put it out. I had seen people get up there before. Call it heroism if you like, but in the moment I was mainly thinking of how to save our apartment. A couple who had passed in their car, had actually called the police and the fire department. I knew none of this, so he and I ran up to my apartment to get water in hopes of getting the people to open it up. I knew that they did not have water piping in that apartment. By the time we came back down the owners had woken up and were putting the fire out from inside just as the police, and surprisingly a nice looking fire truck and team of firefighters arrived.

Fortunately no one was hurt. Us and our neighbors in the apartment below got out soon enough. We went back to bed with a fan blowing to take out the extra smoke that was stinking up our house in the kitchen and veranda. It was not enough to have hurt us but it did leave questions lingering had it been a bigger fire. The thought did occur for us to look for a smoke detector. Could they exist here? They might. We finally resigned ourselves to the fact that with all the smoke coming up from normal cooking, it would be going off every 15 minutes and decided to place ourselves in God's protection instead before going to sleep instead.

2011-07-23T20:53:00.002+02:00

Boxes and Kids

I can remember many times loving the odd box to play with. When mom would get a new refrigerator or other large appliance we would always get the box. Who needs a washing machine. We were not interested. GIVE US THE BOX!!!

I have fond memories of me and my brothers creating castles and forts, complete with draw bridge. We would fight like nights of the round table and attack the ramparts of our box castles. Nadia is no different. We put a new hot water heater in and soon like a little boy I started cutting up the box, putting in a door, a window and most exciting for Nadia a mail slot and stove elements and dials on the side and top. Oh what fun we had. Especially the mail slot. Nadia spends lots of time putting her birthday cards through the slots.

And to prove that Bunny was not stolen in Beira, the proof is in this video.

2011-07-23T19:57:00.002+02:00

Purse Stolen, Purse Returned

We went to Beira this past week for team meetings. Three of our year-long colleagues, participants in MCC's SALT and YAMEN programs ended their terms, so we had a going away party for them and attached team meetings to it.

Joel, Nadia and I risked the bus again, fortunately this time it took the normal amount of time instead of 26 hours like the last time. Our country rep picked us up from the bus terminal. Nadia and I took our carry-on luggage to Melanie's truck while Joel waited to pick up our suitcases from the underside compartment. We loaded everything into the truck. Just as I was about to strap Nadia into her car seat, some guy who must have been watching our movements and lurking in the shadows, swiftly grabbed my purse from my hands and took off through an abandoned field hidden from view by a tin roofing fence on three sides. I yelled my surprise: "That guy stole my purse!" Joel, ever the gentleman, tried to run after the guy, but the thief had the advantage of surprise and night. Joel and I looked all over the field, hoping to see my purse; we talked with several guards of business establishments bordering the abandoned field. But to our dismay, no one had seen anyone running with the purse.

Melanie took us to the police station who told us we needed to go to a different precinct. Upon arriving at the proper precinct, a police officer took the information he needed: Name, daughter of, place of birth, nationality, and finally asked, "What documents were stolen?" He dutifully wrote down what documents I lost and then considered the case closed until we pressed him on the additional items missing.

Documents in Mozambique are notoriously difficulty to get--very time consuming and for foriegners, the immigration processes are not always very efficient. In my purse, I had my residency document, Nadia's residency document, my Pennsylvania driver's license and my international drivers license. All important documents. While Melanie worried about the loss of my documents, Joel and I worried about a more important item--Nadia's beloved Bunny. She loves her Bunny. She would take Bunny everywhere with her if we would allow her. She wakes up in the morning and Bunny is the first thing she plays with; she sleeps with Bunny; she gets hurt and first wants to be comforted by me then wants Bunny; she converses with Bunny: "Como esta, Bunny? Como esta, Nadia? Estou bem" Bunny is Important in our family.

When it came to going to bed, Nadia must have sensed our apprehensive mood and reacted to a new place. She didn't go easily. We told her that someone had taken Bunny. All night long, I worried about losing Bunny. I pictured Bunny like the Velveteen Rabbit, left alone, cold and lonely, abandoned on some random street. I prayed that God would miraculously return Bunny (and my documents).

At 6:30 AM, both Joel and I received a phone call from the same number. I quickly called it back, hoping to hear something about my purse. It was a guard from the Catholic Cathedral School. He said that at 22:00 hours the night before "banditos" left a purse with documents and glasses (my prescription sunglasses). Thank you God! Joel went and picked up the purse from the honest guards. Everything was in the purse, except for the money (about $15.00 USD) and two flash drives. We had Bunny again!

I talked with a Mozambican colleague about how the purse was left in front of the church school. He said that banditos often do that. His wife had the same thing happen. They steal purses, take the money and leave the purse in front of a church or police station, as if they know people need the other things they keep in the purse. Seems they could generate income in less violent ways.

2011-07-09T20:27:00.004+02:00

Freaky Experiences

So you may have seen my earlier blog about the visit to the camp outside of Gorongosa and the wonderful time we had there during our last MCC team meetings. There was one story that I did not tell you but it is worth writing down because I know my mother is printing all my entries in some sort of journal. Thanks mom!

This place was remarkably quiet for Mozambique, no noise whatsoever except for the sounds of animals at night because it was in a forest next to the park. It happened to be the third night we were at the camp. A thunderstorm rolled through in the evening when we were sitting around the fire. Thunderstorms are incredible in Africa with little light from artificial sources, lightening rips through the sky reminding me of one of my favorite childhood stories about a Kenyan man who shoots down the rain. I even read this story to the MCC team before putting Nadia to bed. We went to sleep peacefully with the sound of rain in the forest and on our tent rather than the radios and cars that I usually hear in Maputo.

It must have been about midnight when I woke up from a heavy sleep. I thought it was 3 in the morning. I happened to hear the sound of a man walk by the tent. The camp seems like it is open in the middle of the forest without any protection. In my half daze I sat up and started listening. Before long I started to hear footsteps around the tent on all sides. It sounded like people surrounding our tent from the back to the front where the lights are. All of a sudden all the lights went out. I sat bolt upright a million images going through my mind. I thought of the times in Gondola when gangs of thieves had attacked peoples houses on the outskirts of the town, terrorizing them and stealing their valuables. We had spent nights worried that we could be next. I remembered our regional MCC representatives who had much of their stuff stolen while they slept in Zambia in a tent in a similar situation. I also thought of all the movies which I had seen of Africa where atrocities happened. And worst of all I thought of William, our mechanic who recently spent 2 hours holding his door against a gang of thieves who had surrounded his house, beat him with machetes and left a hole in his skull.

I got really scared and got out of bed asking Jenny if she heard the people outside. She said she didn't.

"Don't you hear the footsteps, or see the light go out," I said whispering.

"No," she replied starting to get a little scared herself.

I got my pants on really quickly and stood by the door ready for anything, more terrified then I had ever been in my life. I tried to peak out the door but could not see anything. The noise of footsteps getting louder. I prayed.

I yelled, hoping to scare them away but the footsteps kept coming. I finally decided I had better warn the others because no-one else was making a noise. I yelled to my colleagues in the tent next to us at the top of my lungs.

"Cybelle," I screamed, "Are you awake?!"

"Yesss!" was her reply.

That is weird. It sounded angry and confused, not scared. Why is that I thought. The fog that my mind was in suddenly cleared and everything became clear. The sound of footsteps were not people it was huge drops of water falling off the trees. A sound like I had never heard before in Mozambique or any other forest I had been in. They were huge drops. It just so happened that I had woken up as the guard went past to shut off the lights at 12 midnight like he always did. All the coincidences happened at the same time. I was hugely embarrassed but also still terrified that I had been so crazy. I went to Jenny and practically bawled feeling like an idiot but still shaking and scared from the images in my head.

Then I heard an owl, hoot in the trees in the back of our tent. Piet, the owner, had said that there is still a lot of witch craft in the communities beyond the camp. Owls are usually seen as witches in animal form. Could it have been some evil. Maybe, it is not unheard of here. This area was the rebel stronghold of Renamo when all sorts of atrocities occured during the war. 20 years ago surrounding a community and massacring everyone was common practice during the civil war. This evil may not be competely gone.

We had a good laugh in the morning over the whole episode. Piet said that he is friends with the communities and that there is no fear of danger. It is true that the camp is not guarded and is open to the forest but there is no danger. I told him the story and he laughed.

But for the moment, it was very true in my mind and that is just as scary as the real thing. I hope it never happens again.

2011-07-09T19:28:00.003+02:00

Water Woes
It's been cold lately. Our apartment is often alot cooler than it is outside, but there's often a breeze so it's not much warmer. We live in a cement apartment building on the south side, which means that during the winter we do not get any sun.

For the past three months we have had difficulties with water. Fortunately they have not affected our supply or use of water. But they have caused some frustration. The first problem is still on-going and our neighbors, whose problem it really is, are not affected by it. Our apartment building has 12 flats in it. We are flat #12 (in case you wondered) and are on the top floor. We share a floor with flat 11. Flats 9 and 10, which are said to also be on the third floor are half a story below us, which means that their roof is in the middle of our wall. Our roof holds a number of water tanks (because the city water is only on from about 3 AM to 12 PM and so people have storage tanks for the time water isn't supplied by the city) and most of the tanks are directly above our bedroom. Our neighbors' tank overflows daily. They have a bouy in it that should signal the city water to stop filling the tank when it is full; but it doesn't work. For the greater of 2 months, we would hear a cascade of water landing a little above our ears at some awful hour, like 4:00 AM until we woke up around 6:00. They tried to fix it but it still runs, thankfully now, only starting the cascade at 6:00 instead of when we are sleeping. The neighbors whose tank it is, live below us and are not the ones receiving the water fall on top of them. In moments of weakness, we have contemplated routing the water from the overflow pipe into their windows so they are affected by the water. But we haven't and have tried to go through the proper complaint channels--the commission of the building.

Our second water problem lasted a few days. We got new neighbors in the flat whose roof joins our wall. He did alot of remodeling, including working on his tank, located above our bathroom. However, somehow, he hooked up an empty tank which, also had overflow issues. But instead of being limited to a waterfall outside the wall, the water began raining in our bathroom. The mass of water leaking also caused a small piece of cement to fall off our ceiling. Considering that he was in the midst of remodeling and seems to be a responsive, responsible sort of man, he fixed it in a few days. I think the ceramic tiles in our bathroom are still drying out because a number of them are still discolored from the water and the grout between them has bubbled.

Our third water problem is hopefully getting fixed this week. The only source of hot water in our apartment was a small electric shower head, frequently informally known as a "widow maker"--makes sense water + electricity... We have had a number of problems with our widow maker and had several electricians in to fix it. Most recently, we have replaced the heating element, only to have the water either scald or be cold. So we had another electrician in to work on it, who said that it wasn't wired properly, in fact there were several inches of exposed wire, taped to the metal tube holding the shower head with electrical wire. So he fixed the wiring and for some reason, then after showering in pleasant temperatured water for about 3 minutes the breaker would blow. We got fast at showering! Then once when Joel was showering he heard a POP! and saw sparks. That was the end of our using the shower head.

This week, a plumber is going to install a water heater--a geyser, as they call them in South Africa, I think we call them a hot water heater in the States. I'm so ready for it. Like I said it's cold, like in the 50's F in the morning, which does not make taking a bucket bath pleasant.

2011-07-03T20:36:00.002+02:00

Do to Others
One of Nadia's favorite songs is a cute little song we have from a tape that says, "Do to others as you would have them do to you". So it just so happened that today I was playing with her and one of the two of us passed gas (I will not let on who it was). In anycase, I said something like someone tooted. Immediately she smiled and started singing, "Toot to others as you would have them toot to you." :)

2011-07-02T21:43:00.002+02:00

Pick n Pay has arrived
We had the most amazing experience today. We walked into a brand spanking new Pick n Pay. It was an incredible experience. Of course this means nothing to anyone that does not know Southern Africa but it is amazing to us. It is a big nice South African grocery store. Not that we did not have good grocery stores. We have Shoprite, also a South African chain, but also several local grocery stores which would be similar to smaller town grocery stores in America. But Pick n Pay is like walking into Johannesburg, South Africa on your doorstep. Biltong, Twinings tea, bohrworsts and other beautiful pieces of meat, afordable cheese, cottage cheese, bran and much more. Amaaaazing!

For anyone who does not believe Africa is not a good place to invest I beg to differ. The place was packed with people. Not only this, but it is the second big grocery store opening in the last month and all the stores have tons more people shopping than I have ever seen in grocery stores in the US. Of course, it is a huge switch for people who are used to informal markets to have organized stores thrust upon them in less than a decade. It is a lot more hectic, but obviously they have money to spend and there clearly is not enough grocery stores yet. Maputo also has a beautiful new mall with bowling alley, a beautiful new Radison hotel on the beach, not to mention a lot of other developments.

And to think, 10 years ago there was hardly a clothing store, people walked around without shoes and had trouble getting toilet paper. Now I can hardly think of anything I cannot get hear except for the wonderful smoked sausages that I get from relatives in the US. Maybe Africa will rise yet!

2011-06-26T16:10:00.003+02:00

NADIA'S TWO YEARS OLD

2011-06-26T16:00:00.003+02:00

Nadia Plays the Guitar

2011-06-26T15:23:00.002+02:00

Cold

I woke up this morning and I was truly cold. I thought of how I must really be a wimp after all these years of living in Sub-Saharan Africa. How my body had changed because of all the heat and how Julie and Heidi must have though us funny when we were in fleeces and they were in shorts and T-shirts walking around town.

Then Jenny looked at the temperature. 38 degrees! And with cement walls and no heating in the house this is bone chilling cold. This is the coldest it has been in Mozambique since we got here. I went to church wearing double socks and flannel pajamas underneath my pants.

2011-06-25T15:39:00.002+02:00

Walking
Maputo. In general we like the city. It is a very safe, walkable by African standards with a mediterranean feel to it. I was thinking about returning to the US and one of the things I will miss most is the slow pace of life and the ability to walk almost anywhere. I enjoy being able to walk, though most people here, especially expats wonder about my choice and why I often do not take the car. I guess it makes me feel normal. I have always liked the excercise and exploring the world. That is why I was a hiker. And it costs nothing, uses no gas and usually I do not have to take myself in for repairs. The more I use the car the more I have to fix it and that is definitely not simple in Mozambique.

I understand it takes more time but life seems simpler. Why do we have to rush so fast through our lives anyway. I have determined that I get a much fuller sense of life the way God created it and of the lives of people when I walk. I get to feel the air on my face, the sounds of, well, cars of course, but the sound of people, markets as well. I get to see their lives, to experience what it is like, to understand a bit though the divide is still great. It gives me a stronger basis to minister Christ to people. To share in their lives. I get to see that life is not just about getting from point A to point B but actually enjoying the journey, the intricacies along the way. To enjoy the sight of vegetbles, books and fish being sold next to the street, the flowers in people's yards and the new construction and reabilitation that often gets missed in the broken buildings. Sure, I have to avoid the dogpoop, not mentioning what else ends up on the ground, and broken glass bottles. But this seems more of a challenge. I personnally enjoy cement that is broken and heaved hither and to by the tree roots or simple neglect. It breaks the monotony of cement and gives me a challenge, somewhat like hopping along boulders in the mountains.

Plus, it just makes me feel good! So I will walk.

2011-06-19T13:36:00.005+02:00

Xai-Xai

Passeio above Delagoa Bay in Maputo

Julie and Heidi visited us this last week. They are lifelong friends whom I could almost call family since we grew up together in church and school. This was the first set of visitors we have had other than family who have taken the time to visit us. We appreciate that very much, Julie and Heidi. Though we have no expectations of other friends visiting us nor want to place that expectation on anybody. We are keenly aware that such a visit encourages us and helps us remember that though we may be odd-balls living in a foreign land we still come from somewhere normal, loving communities.

They spent a lot of time exploring Maputo, including the Natural History Museum which turns out does not keep anything in secret but shows birds of prey and other such animals attacking others in very vibrant and gruesome ways. I suppose it is for effect. People want excitement not just in movies but from stuffed animals in an exhibit. Somehow, though, it does seem to ruin thoughts of living in a Peacable Kingdom or trying to get back to nature. It looks downright vicious, even horrifying! They showed us the pictures. We did have the privilage of spending time with them a few days when we did not have work to do, having coffee at the European style cafes and trying the Portugues pastries.

On Sunday, we headed to Xai-Xai. It is one of the few beaches in Mozambique where I have actually been on the open ocean and not a bay or inlet. Since it is the low season during winter, there was virtually no-one there on this stretch of sand that goes for miles and miles with towering sand dunes behind it. There is an incredible reef running like an asphalt highway horizontal to the beach. It is under water at high tide and creates a little swimming area next to the beach that is protects it from the waves. It breaks up in some places into big chunks and the
waves crash into them sending spray up to 20 meters in the air. Truly a beautiful sight.
We stayed in a house all by ourselves just 100 meters from the beach. It was cold but still fun to be in such a beautiful setting. Nadia herself could not get enough of running and jumping in the puddles left by the low tides.

2011-06-05T14:26:00.004+02:00

Gorongosa Adventures

MCC Mozambique Team

Despite the long 26-hour trip back to Maputo, I want to write a little bit about the wonderful time we actually did have in Sofala Province which indeed is the reason that we were able to handle with patience the long trip afterwards. We were to have team meetings in Beira like we usually do every 3 months but this time, on someone's suggestion, which I might add was wonderful, we decided to spend some time at a camp just outside Gorongosa Park and have our meetings in this rural bush setting. For those of you who do not know, Gorongosa Park is probably the best game reserve in Mozambique and if it weren't for the war, it would be one of the best parks in Southern Africa if not Africa for seeing game. At this point you can see warthogs, baboons, vervet monkeys and any number of antelope and gazelle. The lions and elephants are coming back and the setting is very much more rugged and wild than anywhere else I have been in southern Africa and the vegetation and forest savannah beautiful. The park borders Gorongosa Mountain which is unique in its own right. It is a single mountain in the middle of flat savannah plains but full of wildlife and a unique forest on top.

We spent our time in a camp run by a South African couple just outside the park. They are working on there registration for there tourist business and so they have lived Swiss Family Robinson style in a house that looks like a labrynth beautifully made of bamboo, reeds and grasses while they build there more permanent house. The bamboo opens up to room after room as you walk back with furniture and paintings that look like it came from 'Out of Africa'. It is in the middle of the forest and quiet but completely open. Anyone could walk in and not be noticed and there is no security. I asked Piet how they can live without walls or security remembering the gangs of thieves that used to scare us in Gondola, which is only 2 hours drive away. He said they have been here 8 years and nothing ever happened to give them concern. They get along excellently with the neighboring communities who offer them protection and the community benefits because their land is protected from logging companies that want to come in and exploit the land. This is conservation and tourism at its best.

They have a number of daughters and one of them is in charge of tourist trips. She speaks Portuguese, Afrikaans, Sena and English with perfection and is as comfortable with the locals as she is with us, running around in barefeet all day. She is 16 and has been driving since she was 11. The government tried to stop her at one point but they realized she is a better driver than a lot of other locals and so she drives for the government people as well. What an amazing life. She took us one evening to see the stunning sunset over the Pungue River valley. I had been there before with Brooke and Sara but this time we had food, soda and a guitar. As the song goes,"No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I'm clinging. If love is Lord of heaven and earth, I cannot keep from singing." So we sang.

Nadia and I above the Pungue River Valley

Jenny, Nadia and Melanie in the Sunset

Jon and I hiked up a steep footpath about 50-100 meters up to the top of the fall. We did it in barefeet and I was seriously precarious at times. I felt like I was in virgin territory exploring the deep of the jungle in a remote corner of the world. Actually, we were. This is little known territory but is sure to be known as the tourism grows in Mozambique. The rest took turns jumping into the cold water. I have done that enough in my life, I decided I did not need to do it this time. We all ate lunch there at the waterfall.

Waterfall. Can you find Jon?

On Gorongosa Mountain trail to the Waterfall

Each day we ate lunch and dinner together which was cooked by the mother in the bamboo house. It was some of the most amazing meals I have ever had. Especially the gazelle stir fry. We slept in tents with hot showers and spent the evenings sitting around the campfire, playing guitar and laughing. The last evening we spent with Piet and Ria but I was so exhausted that I did not get to talk much. Piet said my face looked familiar from my days in Chimioio. He must have seen me in town somewhere. That made me miss Chimoio so much. If we still lived there we could easily come visit them for vacation.

Amazing Dinners

On Saturday we had a very meaningful worship service and communion together with Piet and Ria. Piet became a Christian sometime in the 90s and they are very humble people. They are also working some with conservation agriculture so we will probably connect in the future now that MCC has translated some materials. They have a heart for the community around them and that is so good to see.

We all voted that we would love to come back to this place. We felt so refreshed spiritually, emotionally and physically that going back on the 26 hour trip to Maputo was not as bad as it could have been. It teaches me once again how important it is to take care of ourselves when doing the kind of work we are doing.

2011-06-04T15:24:00.003+02:00

When did it change?

Every year about this time, I long to walk or sit in the sunshine. The rest of the year, I seek the shade. The change is so gradual and creeps up on me. I never know when that change happens or when it goes the opposite way of prefering the shade. Suddenly one day, I'm struck that I am enjoying the warmth of the sun instead of hiding from it. For now I am enjoying the warmth on my toes as I walk "bundled up" in long pants, long sleeves and a sweater wearing sandals. Or relishing the feel of shoes and socks

Picnic in the sunshine in july 2009 with my mom and 2-week old Nadia

2011-05-31T17:04:00.005+02:00

Service Delivery, Mozambican Style

Last week we had team meetings in Beira. As usual, we took the bus to Beira, enduring the 15-hour drive north. Joel left early on Sunday morning and Nadia and I left early Monday morning. He had meetings to go to before we needed to be there and the bus company we use doesn't go on Tuesdays, the day I wanted to go. Thus, Nadia and I went on Monday. Our trips were relatively uneventful. Monday, we came back to Maputo, all three of us together.

We left the station ahead of schedule on a relatively empty bus at 3:45 AM. They announced our estimated arrival in Maputo to be 8:30 PM. We quickly fell asleep, lulled by the hum of the motor and the motion. We woke up about an hour and half later to the repetative beep of an emergency alarm going off. The driver pulled over and looked at what was wrong, couldn't figure it out, and kept driving. 50 km (28 miles) down the road, the same thing. The trip continued thus. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep...keep driving slower and slower until we pull to the side the road, the two drivers and in-bus service attendant (usually titled "flight attendant" in our family), under the bus looking at whatever was wrong. They finally figured out something was wrong with the air pressure system because whenever they worked on it we always heard air escaping.

The whole trip was like this, every 50 km, stopping to plug up the leak and pump the air back into the system. It wouldn't have been too bad, if the trip from Beira to Maputo was the distance from Beira to Chimoio (=200 km). It's not. Mozambique in it's entirety is twice the length of the state of California. It's 1200 km from Beira (midpoint) to Maputo (far south). What should have taken us 6 hours to get to Vilanculos (halfway point) took us 10. We had "lunch" at 5:30 because that's how long it took us to get to the town where our meals had been pre-ordered.

This continued all night until at 4:00 AM, I woke up once again to a stopped bus and the constant beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep of the alarm. I pondered the thought of what purgatory could be like: pre-dawn darkness in an unknown town with few street lights, longing for sleep but awakened by the incessant beep of the alarm and two fellow passengers talking loudly, my neck with a crick in it from sleeping upright, while my almost-2 year old whines because she, too, is tired of sleeping upright in her car seat and wants a cracker, but adamantly refuses when I give her one, the bus becoming stuffier from the lack of air conditioning.

We finally made it to Maputo at 6:00 AM. Twenty-six hours after we had left. Not once did we get an explanation of what was wrong. Never did we hear an apology for the delay escept to say, "This has never happened before". A person is left wondering, can you say that with integrity? We were not offered a refund or a free trip voucher with the company again. We did not receive any free drinks or snacks because of the long wait until lunch. I've come to understand that in this culture, one rarely apologizes for mistakes and almost never for delays.

It seems so counter-intuitive for those of us coming from the US, where airlines (the mode of public transportation that I have used the most to get from one city to another) explain the reasons for delays and if there are major issues offer compensation. At the least the captain of a plane when welcoming passengers to the flight, apologizes for the delay and asks them to consider the airline in the future. This is Mozambique. Things like this happen without explanation or apology.

2011-05-19T20:18:00.003+02:00

Hip Hop Star

Look at this. Where did she learn it? She totally started dancing and singing in the microphone by herself. I hope it is not our maid watching Mozambican rap videos when we are away. Not much of anything good worth learning from there. I really hope she saw our friends children and copied them. It was their microphone.

2011-05-08T14:54:00.002+02:00

Dilemmas
The price of food is rising. Obviously there is inflation to take into consideration but food is rising beyond that. I was recently talking to someone who just returned to Mozambique after four years absence. She commented how expensive food is. We have friends who regularly go grocery shopping for basic groceries across the border in Nelspruit because it is cheaper. I know food prices in the States have risen since I last lived there. I wonder how the prices compare.

In some ways, food is cheap here. Locally grown fruits and vegetables are not expensive. Oranges are in season and I can buy an orange, depending on the fruit seller for 5 meticais ($0.16 USD = 6 oranges for $1). Or a handful of green beans for 10 meticais ($0.32 USD). But, like I said, prices are rising. When we first arrived in Mozambique, I bought eggs for 3 meticais an egg (at that time $0.12 USD = 36 meticais/dozen = $1.44 USD/dozen). Now I pay 70 meticais ($2.33 USD) for a dozen eggs or 6 meticais for an individual egg ($0.20 USD).

We're going to South Africa this week for some MCC business. I am tempted to do some grocery shopping for things that I can get in Mozambique. Normally, I would look for things that I cannot buy in Moz. But this week, thinking about my budget, I wonder about buying things that are available in Moz but are cheaper in South Africa. Perhaps, I am over processing. But one of the things that seems to be an unsaid value in MCC (and that I believe) is trying to support the local economy. In the grand scheme of life, whether or not I do some regular grocery shopping in South Africa won't matter. But it takes me a step away from being present in Mozambique.

2011-05-07T19:03:00.004+02:00

Saturday Fun

Today was one of those really good days. Jenny and I have decided that we will be walking every Saturday to the Lover's Park (Parque de Namorados). It overlooks the bay with a wonderful outdoor cafe, good coffee and a sandy play area complete with one of those play structures you would see in a McDonald's in the US. We always enjoy the walk. Central Maputo has wide sidewalks, practically 12 feet wide, that makes walking with a stroller easy and quite safe if Nadia wants to run.

Lover's Park (Parque de Namorados)

We often pass by to say "hi!" to a wooden giraffe and lion that is in the new Parque de Continuadores. This park has been renovated for craft sellers to sell there wares to tourists and international workers staying in the expensive hotels in the area. To attract people they also have several restaurants serving coffee and local cuisine, an art area where for a fee children can do artwork all morning, several stages for music and theatre and many other attractions.

We had our walk, our coffee and Nadia played in the sand with another young girl, Chloe. Her mother works for USAID and Jenny and her had a very nice conversation for a while. She is from New York and her husband from France. We meet some really interesting people.

We spent the afternoon relaxing. I made monkey bread for breakfast tomorrow on request from Jenny for mother's day (Pat take note). Nadia had her nap. In the evening we went for a drive down 'the Marginal', the long palm tree lined beach road along the edge of Maputo and along the bay. We got hot dogs near the beach and parked overlooking the water as the sun went down. We almost bought coconuts with little straws to drink the water but decided we would do that another time. Sounds like paradise doesn't it. We than drove into dusk along the bay, into down town, enjoying the sites of the lights on the bay and the new construction that will one day make the whole beach and bay area an incredible walking and shopping area. We headed past the tall buildings and into downtown and home.

Along "The Marginal"

This was a good day.

2011-05-07T19:01:00.004+02:00

Baby Wisecracks

Jenny was reading one of Sandra Boynton books to Nadia before bed this evening. It is called "Opposites". Nadia got to the one about Young and Old.

She said, "Daddy, old."

I feel better

2011-05-02T19:25:00.003+02:00

Sand Dams & Food Security Update

I know it has been some time since I wrote on the topic of sand dams and food security which are the crux of my work (Joel) here in Mozambique. I have had to maintain a very disciplined line between work and home life, something which can be very grey within MCC. it can quickly encompass one's entire life. I think that is the way of missions. We treat it a bit different than normal life, or at least I do, with a higher set of ideals and scrutiny. If it is work, we can define the work place and the home life. If it is on the mission field, there is no division, all of life is mission, or at least I think that is what we tend to think. Why is that? Well in anycase, I have learned that definitely in order to survive you have to divide the time in your mind so you and your family do not go crazy. Thus, since I do most e-mailing at home on our blog, I do not write a lot about work.

In any case, a lot has happened in the last year to rejoice about. As many know we moved to Maputo so that I can join a team of people within CCM at their national offices. There has been incredible interest in the work of sand dams and conservation agriculture, both from people who donate money, local organizations and government wanting to build them for Mozambican communities as well as communities who have seen the benefits of improved lives and want dams built for themselves.

Now, what many people see when they give to MCC is that MCC takes that money and somehow magically a dam appears in a community on the otherside of the world. What people do not know is what all has to happen in between to make that happen. It is not as simple as giving money to some needy person and they build a dam. If that were the case, this all would be simple. We would just function like Western Union and tranfer money right to the people that need it. But we know the world is not that simple. There are many things that need to happen. There needs to be good planning by the local organization building the dam so that the money is well spent and people are helped. There needs to be information going back to those who gave money such as stories and information on results, so that everyone is held accountable and so that people who gave know that they really did make a difference. MCC needs to see the results so they can raise more moeny. Local organizations need to be able to connect to donor agencies, like Canadian Food Grains Bank, Life Water, USAID, CIDA and others who can fund the kind of work they hope will benefit people. Local organizations need to be able to fill out grant applications in a way that actually encourages other organizations to fund their work and they need to report in a way that builds and maintains trust.

But there is a big problem. Because we work in a under-developed country, education levels are a lot lower than ours and skills are lacking. The lack of education and skills in society means, though the people in local organizations and communities have skills, they may not have the skills or resources needed to do the kinds of things like reporting, collecting written stories of the difference it is making in people's lives. They do not have the skills to plan efficiently, fill out convincing grant applications and so on. These are the kind of things that determines whether your project will recieve funding or not and whether you can maintain the trust of funding organizations. When a project is not funded, it is the people in the communities that could benefit from a dam that suffer because there is no money to build the dam or teach agriculture skills. Vice versa, this means that the type of information that agencies like MCC need to give back to people like you and me who donate money is often lacking. What happens when MCC cannot give that information to people who donate? Well, we scrutinize missions pretty well. If we don't like it we stop giving or go elsewhere to an organization that we think will do it better. Or we form our own organization or grant which is not necessarily better because the problem is not with MCC or any other funding agency but with the lack of education systems within the countries in which we work. This all means less money for the work that we would like to do to help people. Make sense.

So a few years ago CCM was asking MCC and CFGB to expand the work in other provinces beyond the work that was already happening. Communities were asking for dams. Governments were asking for training for their personnel. Churches were asking for training in conservation agriculture. We were too few in MCC to handle all the in between work. So really the biggest constraint to building more dams and doing more agriculture is the capacity and skills to do the necessary stuff in between including the people and structure to make it happen. So what do we do? Well, that is why I am in Maputo. MCC Mozambique is concentrating on building a team of people whose challenge is to create the conditions within the local organization so the following happens:

The provincial bodies of the local organization have the skills to manage these projects well.

The provincial bodies have the human resources and technical skills necessary both in management of projects and in agriculture and water collection technologies..

The NGO and its provincial bodies have the ability to report on the results in the communities and pass that on to funding agencies and constituents in the West.

Good relationships are built and maintained between the NGO and the myriad of funding agencies in the rest of the world so there is sufficient money, training opportunities and technical resources to do the job well.

Expansion of the sand dams and conservation work into 4 more provinces in the next 5 years, helping many more communities get food and water for themselves.

So this takes a lot of work and organization and our team has charge of organizing a structure that will facilitate training in technical skills (in water collection and agriculture techniques and approaches, engineering, finances, reporting, project management, etc), learning exchanges with other organizations with experience, building reporting and accounting structures that are efficient and transparent, providing direction and strategy for the program, handling the transfer of money and building the program such that it can be done in a completely new province who has no experience yet with sand dams and conservation agriculture. To move to a different province is not as easy as it seems. There is a huge amount of experience and technical skills and tools gained over the past 4 years. Our team has to start getting together documentation on the processes, such as dam construction and conservation agriculture, technical surveys, tracking sheets, contracts, technical teachings, organizational structures and so on. All these things are needed so we are able to communicate this to people in another province who have never, ever built a dam before. It is not as easy as just telling them how to do it. There is a lot of training (build capacity)that needs to happen and we do not want them to have to start from scratch nor repeat the mistakes we made. It is just not necessary nor an efficient use of money, time and effort.

We have come a long way. We have 4 team members and they are learning their roles. We are planning projects in 4 provinces, 2 more than those already constructing dams. We have program goals and are developing policy, plans and budgets. We are collecting documentation tools in the field and planning trainings. If we do our work well, we will earn the trust of funding agencies and maybe even you who give money to us.

It is not that there is not need nor money to give. There is plenty of communities waiting for dams and plenty of people wanting to help. What is needed is the machinery to make it happen well, transparently, efficiently and productively. If we can pull it off, the end result will be a multiplier effect and will last for many years to come and transform the local church organization into something better.

I have tried in so many ways to describe what I do or am involved in. This is the closest I can come without people wondering why an agriculture worker is living in the big city. That is why I moved to Maputo. That is why we are doing what we are doing.

2011-05-01T12:56:00.002+02:00

Noise

Mozambique is the loudest place I have ever lived. I’ve lived quite a few places in the States and three countries overseas—Russia, Mozambique and South Africa; Moz is the loudest. I find it ironic that in the description of Mozambique on job descriptions for MCC, someone described Mozambicans as talking softly. Perhaps in front of authority figures, but in normal life, it's not unusual for conversations to happen across distances with shouting.

It’s not unusual to hear music from our neighbors. We’ve grown accustomed to people’s ways of sharing their music since our days in Gondola. There are times I have prayed in the heat of the summer with the fan blowing on us for the electricity to go out just so we could have quiet to sleep. There are only so many doors and windows we can shut so that the music is shut out, but it’s still there, often feeling the beat through the floor as late as 4 AM.

Sometimes I stop and count how many noises I hear. Friday was a particularly loud day. We live on the fourth floor by American counting, third by the rest of the world. When I counted, this is what I heard: Nadia talking to herself in her crib before falling asleep for her nap, the radio playing some sort of Mozambican hip-hop (our maid’s choice of music), neighbors playing their music, people talking on the street below us, workers renovating the stores in our building on street level with power tools, and traffic. I long for quiet.

2011-05-01T09:26:00.005+02:00

Exercises
Nadia puts me to shame. Look at this. She decided to stretch with me this morning and she can lay flat on the floor with her feet straight out to the sides. Amazing. The other day she decided to help me with my pushups by getting on my back.

2011-05-01T09:22:00.003+02:00

Sites Out Our Window

Honestly, I think we have lived in some of the most interesting places here in Mozambique. What we see outside of our windows gives us quite a bit of entertainment. In Gondola we would see people fly by on their bicycles with their wife on the back, two children on the bars in front of their dad and one on the mothers back. We would witness houses burning in the distance, miles away, probably the result of some child who did not intend to be an arson. We would look out our window and see men passing by our window with goats and chickens, all on top of heavily loaded semi-trucks. We would see numerous street fights including a woman who must have been on drugs, because it took 5 people to drag her away from a fight with a random woman on the street with whom she thought had stolen her husband.

Maputo has been even crazier. I have already mentioned the things we see from our window in earlier blog posts. But occasionally we hear a crash or other weird sounds and run to the window to see what has happened. Tonight we were watching a movie and we hear a big crash that sounded like a horrible accident. We rushed to the window to see the action. No accident, but right below our apartment was a small building with a roof on its side. Apparently it fell of the back of the pickup which was carrying it. The roof was all banged up but the rest seemed undamaged.

I do not know what is more bizarre, the fact that they were carrying it on a pickup truck, the fact that it was not tied down or that a dozen or so drunk men were shouting orders at each other tying to lift the small shed up and move it off the road. I wonder if drunk driving was again the cause.

2011-04-22T14:34:00.002+02:00

The Crucifiction

This last Sunday at the English fellowship we were watching a video where American Pastor Andy Stanely talked about the day Jesus died. He talked about how crucifiction was reserved only for enemies of Rome and never a Roman citizen. He talked about how much detail is in the bible of those hours prior to and up to the crucifiction. Clearly it was so important that these details were left in. He went through the detail of the trial. The only way Jesus could be crucified would be if he was an enemy of Rome. Pilot did not believe he was and yet Jesus did not answer any of the questions. He was silent. Andy talked about how when he was asked if he was king of the Jews he would not have had to answer. But Jesus answered knowing full well that particular question would fit him for the qualification of an enemy of Rome and crucifiction. It is stated again and again that Jesus laid his life down willingly but I think I have often fallen into the temptation of thinking it was Rome, Pilot, Jews, etc. But by answering the question he condemned himself, willingly. Willingly as Abraham and Isaac on the alter.

It was also interesting to here him talk about how the cross was not an accepted icon of the church until all the people who had seen a crucifiction where dead. The cross was a shameful way to die. Anyone who had seen a crucifiction would not want to have any association with such an act.

Andy went on to talk about how Rome had devised a crucifiction to be as painful as possible, actually nailing their rists above their head instead of out like is always depicted. They put a platform under their feet so that it would take a lot longer to die. He also talked about the flogging Jesus received which often left people dead. The more I thought of it the more I realized inside that I would never, ever, ever be able to do what Jesus did. At least not willingly and I would not go peacefully. I hate pain. We have many movies that show of heros, saviours, I can think of Braveheart for example where the heros die for a cause. It is one thing to see someone crucified, a victim of the system or oppression but would anyone in this world condemn themselves. Especially without a fight? Without stubborness? Without a hope for justice? Would anybody? God even chose a time in history when capital punishment was a horrific cross. Would it be the same if Jesus was lethally injected?

All I could think of to respond to such an act of courage and will is "Worthy, worthy, worthy is the lamb of glory". Because he was willing, I don't have to.

2011-04-22T14:26:00.002+02:00

Easter Services

It is good friday afternoon and singing is rising from the speakers leading the procession outside of the catholic church across the street from our apartment. One of the things that I have appreciated about Mozambique, or at least in the Catholic and Anglican traditions, is the marches they do. On Palm Sunday we marched down the street into the church singing hymns of praise to God. What a great public demonstration of our identity with Christ. We also did this in Chimoio and walked almost 2 kms singing. The churches will have services on Thursday, Friday and again on Sunday.

Last night, at the Anglican survice focused on the Lord's supper. It was done in English, Portuguese and Changana. They had the usual communion but at the end of all the priest read the story of Jesus washing the disciples feet. He called for 12 people, 3 men, 3 women, 3 children and 3 older persons. As the congregation sang he washed the feet of these 12 symbols of the orginal disciples. It was quite a powerful imagery of Christ's identification and love, a bit different than I have been used to in the Mennonite Church with the priesthood of all believers, but yet beautiful in a different way.

2011-04-22T14:09:00.002+02:00

Changes

Today I am noticing changes. I went out to do some grocery shopping and to the ATM to pay bills. Four years ago in Chimoio and Gondola, I had to carry money everywhere and wait in long lines at the electric, phone and other bills. I do not know about the rest of the country, but in Maputo they have now instituted bank cards that can pay bills directly by ATM. I remember in Chimoio and the rest of the country the banking systems were popping up everywhere so this could be available eslwhere soon. Long gone are the days of sending our maid to stand in line for hours to pay bills.

Of course this could be the difference in Maputo and the rest of the country. Afterall a friend once asked how life was in the capital city and wondered if the sand on the beach was air conditioned (not the case if anyone is wondering). What I have noticed is the city getting more and more packed with cars. We were in South Africa for the two months of January and February and the traffic has gotten noticeably worse. This is the downside, at least for us who want to get somewhere by car. Fortunately they repaved a bunch of roads, are updating the toll booth and working on some of the drainage systems. Also on the upside, I walked into the ATM at our nearest bank and as I entered my choices with the buttons, the machine flipped from screen to screen within a matter of seconds. It used to take 10-20 seconds as recently as last year for the system to move. Gone are the lines at the ATMs. I wonder if this is really a change in the banking systems for the better or if this will only last a mere several weeks. Let's hope for the best.

2011-04-18T18:53:00.002+02:00

Tidbits
Pure bliss...
- drinking tea with my husband and daughter at an outdoor cafe overlooking the ocean
- drinking tea at home on a cool rainy day with a good book
- eating one of our favorite soups--Curry Vegetable Soup
- taking walks around the city and noticing new flowers
- walking in procession around the block with other worshippers while waving palm branches and singing hymns to begin the Palm Sunday service
- Nadia giving hugs and kisses as she pretends to leave and coming back repeatedly before she "leaves" (To where? I don't think she knows, she just knows she's leaving and rides off to the other room on her little car)

Nadia-isms...
Last week I took Nadia out of church because she was being too loud. As I explained to her that she needs to talk quietly and sit on the pew or stand on the floor between Joel and I, she noticed another woman bringing her two children outside. She told me, "Baby time out".

She's begun singing with me as I sing to her, "If I were a butterfly". When I get to the part, "I just thank you for making me, me" she joins in with a hearty, "Making me, Me!"

I recently found my flipflops that were missing for several months (never unpacked from a suitcase from a trip). When I first wore them around the house, she called them "Nois shoes" because our friend, Lois (Nois) in Johannesburg wears flip flops often.

My Kitchen
- I wish i had more space in our freezer. As it stands now, we have a number of items in it that because of the location of where we live, they need to be in the freezer, but do not really need to be frozen--lots of Joel's chocolate, several containers of flour/wheat bran, and chicken broth. There isn't much room for things that I would like to store in it--seasonal vegetables so we can have them more year-round, ice cream (it it was more readily available), popsicles (there's no room even if I wanted to make them.
- There's a distinct smell to washing dishes with hot water from the tap. I remember being enchanted with the smell when we moved to our house in Chimoio and had hot water from the faucet. Now we're back to heating water for our dish water, the smell's not the same.

2011-04-17T15:36:00.003+02:00

Drunk Driving

It seems like our street is giving us entertainment by the day but not the kind that you want to rejoice over. I have been trying to run on a regular basis for health and good spirits. Usually I do it at 6 in the morning. There is a long street behind our house, past the military base, that does not have a lot of cross streets, thus I do not have to deal with a lot of traffic. This Sunday morning it was drizzling a bit but the temperature was perfect.

I had finished and was walking back to my apartment and had reached within two blocks of home when I heard a sound of metal grating behind me. The streets were pretty void of traffic on Palm Sunday morning but there must have been one car traveling and he must have been going fast by the sound of the screaching metal. Two blocks back I watched as the car was skidding along the edge of the asphalt, scraping on the cement curb. It jumped the curb without flipping over but in horror I watched as it headed right for one of the huge lamp posts in the median. It nailed the lamp post putting what looked like a two foot dent in the front of the car, the back flew up and around as the top of the lamp post flew off, falling on the car and the pole laid flat on the ground.

Nothing moved except my thoughts.

I wan't the only one witnessing it. "They're drunk," stated the man who passed me on the sidewalk.

"Plastered drunk," the man up the street agreed in a voice with a hint of disdain in it.

I considered running to see if the people were alright but I am embarrassed to say that I did not really want to and actally kept walking, hoping that someone else would help, knowing I do not handle such situations well. I actually didn't need to because within 1 minute the car was surrounded by 20 people and the police were called. In reality, I am embarassed to say, but what I thought was,"Shoot, the street was just getting nice and now we have one less light on this street because of a careless drunk person." That was a terrible judgement, I know, because I do not even know if he really was drunk, but at that time in the morning and that kind of driving, there is not much else it could be.

I do not know what happened to the person or people in the accident. The car was gone by afternoon. I hope the city fixes the pole, I doubt they had insurance.

2011-04-17T15:09:00.002+02:00

Street Justice

The other day I was sitting down to a nice cup of tea and to play with Nadia after work and we heard this high pitched screaming out the window. I noramally would assume this to be noisy teenagers trying to impress each other on the streets however, this sounded a bit different. I went to the window to see a grown man across the street in front of the church scraping trash with a stick onto the road. This would be normal if the man was scraping the trash with the stick off the road. This is how people clean the streets in the morning. This man was in disheveled, torn clothes, without shoes and looked like he had not had a bath for some time. Every so often if someone or something passed to close to him he would go into a frenzy, throwing rocks and clods of dirt at various targets and screaming at the top of his lungs. Crazy? Maybe. He could be an old war veteren, possessed or on drugs, all common things here that would make a man do such things. In any case, it was sad to watch. I was actually glad that I had returned recently. I had been out with Nadia to buy some vegetables, passing right by where he had been. We often see homeless, psychologically different individuals but normally they are harmless and in their own world.

This man was getting dangerous, however. I watched as a car tried to park near and he started launching rocks at it. People watched but did not do anything about it. What could they do, he may hurt someone. The car moved realizing the danger. I then watched a car pass on our busy street and at about 15 feet he launched a small rock in its side. The driver did not hear it or if he did he thought best to continue on. After a few minutes another car passed and the man took a large softball sized stone and at 5 feet threw it into the door with a loud thud that everyone heard. I couldn't beleive my eyes. The car proceeded forward and then stopped at the intersection. You could see people pointing fingers and talking.

10 minutes later, after playing some cards with Nadia I went to look outside. What I saw to my horror was 10 men, several security guards with clubs and others with sticks beating the man sensless, knocking him out. Ok, so he was dangerous and some kind of action needed to be taken to keep him from hurting someone else but they continued to beat him after he was unconscious and some looked like they were just in it for the fun. Why?

They tied his hands and feet and soon the police were there. They loaded him up on the back of the pickup truck but instead of just putting him in the back, they shoved him underneath the bars of the seats in his own prison. That is barely enough room for a person. A man who probably did not know what he was doing.

I don't know what happened in this man's life to bring him to where he is but regardless this all left me questioning what was really necessary in all the violence towards him. Sometimes I see things here that make me think that at the root of most people is a need to be violent and beat up someone who is weaker. I don't want to believe this but somedays it seems that way.

2011-04-16T14:28:00.004+02:00

Colors

We are trying to work on Nadia's colors. Jenny made cards that have pictures of different colors and I make up games with Nadia based on the matching the colors on the cards. Her favorite color is pink because every card that is laid down she says pink. Then I have to say no and tell her to pick a different color. We were sitting around the table today eating our fruit. We had been telling her what an orange was that she was eating. It is tricky because normally an orange is, well, orange. But these are unripe green oranges that can sometimes be yellow. So I made the mistake of telling her it is yellow.

"But," I said, "It is usually orange."

It doesn't matter, Jenny said, she still isn't able to understand the difference.

"But she knows what pink is," I said.

"Not really," she replied. I picked up the ketchup and asked Nadia what color it was.

"Pink," she said. I corrected her, saying it is red and then held up a pink lid.

"Red," she said.

Ok, Jenny, you are right.

2011-04-08T19:04:00.003+02:00

Colds

I have successfully made it through 5 years living in Africa without getting majorly sick. I suppose this should be cause for some sort of celebration. I have never had malaria and after the stories, I am happy that I have not. I have heard from various people comparing it to something like being hit by a train and that you wished you could die. So take your pick. I have had little things happen to me, more often than not related to stress.

Of all the things that can happen in Africa I would not expect the common cold to be the one that knocks me out. I had gone four years with very little illness and then we moved to Maputo I have had two colds and the flu in the last year. I am trying to figure out what the difference is. I was a lot more stressed in Chimoio. Maybe the warmth kept it at bay. The weather changes here have been more drastic. Maybe it is the pollution. Maybe it is because we have more contact with people. Maybe it is my daughter who catches illness from the children in the park. Whatever the reason, I have had more here than the first years combined in Mozambique. And they aren't little sissy colds. I remember in Denver I would go to work at the tree nursery in the snow and cold hauling trees around when I had a cold. It was no big deal. Sure I didn't feel good but it was not enough to put me down.

The first cold I had in Maputo gave me the worst sore throat I think I have ever had. It lasted for like 5 days. There were big ugly white spots on my throat and I could barely swallow. I got the flu in October and it was not overly bad in and of itself. I had a fever and aches and pains the first day. The second day, however, I went to the bathroom and sat down and before I knew it Jenny was waking me up. I had crushed my head and kneck on the floor after passing out on the toilet. I went to the doctor thinking it must be the beginning of malaria but it seemed like just a virus.

This last week Nadia came home with the sniffles and stopped eating. A cold we thought. I remembered the horror of the soar throat from the first cold I had. I tried to avoid it but I had not been sleeping well. Our neighbors had had a party and it had been especially hot the week before. I went to work the first day but the second day knocked me out. Nose running like crazy and a splitting headache and no energy. I wanted to stay in bed all day. It was a holiday and we went out for breakfast but the sun made my head hurt worse. I wanted to sleep all day and I was not much help around the house. Today it is a bit better but the sore throat and cough are coming on. I feel like such a wimp. Why am I getting beaten by a common cold. The only thing I can think of is that since we are on the other side of the world, my body does not have as much resistence to the type of colds that are circulating in this area and so they hit me harder than they would in the US. It makes me scared what I would do if I ever do catch malaria.

2011-02-21T11:16:00.001+02:00

Boy, do I travel! Joel

I remember my parents telling me that I had been in a plane when I was too young to remember. Actually I remember a bit of it. Enough to know that it was a memory from inside a plane, though it is so faint and all I really remember was mom taking me up the aisle toward the restroom. In fact, the first time I was on a plane was when I was in college on a choir tour of the southwest states. I was quite scared, actually. But it was quite a marvel, that first flight.

I still like flying. I actually look forward to plane food. At least here in southern Africa they still spoil you with the royal treatment of free snacks, free drinks and even free South African wine for those who care to indulge. I think, however, that I am a bit spoiled now. I have flown a lot, actually, embarrassing a lot, especially this last year. I believe it was in June (2010) when I was marveling at how much I had traveled over the previous year and began to count the flights. It was the year that Nadia was born so I flew from Beira to Johannesburg and back (2 flights). That was the start. The following is a list of all the rest from June 2009-2010.

Johannesburg-Bloemfontein-Johannesburg for conservation agriculture training (2 flights)
Beira to Johannesburg for strategic meetings (2 flights)
Beira to Maputo for meetings with CCM (2 flights)
Beira-Johannesburg-Dakar-Washington-Philadelphia for home leave (3 flights)
Philadelphia-Chicago-Omaha to visit my parents (3 flights)
Wichita-Denver for MCC storytelling (1 flight)
Denver-Chicago for MCC storytelling (1 flight)
Chicago-Saskatchewan (1 flight)
Saskatchewan-Denver-Omaha, my parents again (2 flights)
Omaha-Chicago-Philadelphia, back to Jenny’s parents (2 flights)
Philadelphia-Washington-Dakar-Johannesburg-Beira, return to Mozambique (3 flights)
Chimoio-Maputo-Chimoio, to find house in Maputo (2 flights)

I flew 24 times, 5 different counties, and 12 different cities. That is a lot of airplane food (which I thoroughly enjoyed). And a majority of that was logged with my new daughter. Not to mention that I took another flight from Maputo-Tete in August plus all the vehicle travel that happened over our MCC speaking engagements and to and from team meetings in Mozambique and projects. No wonder I am a little exhausted this past year from all the travel.

But, you know, I still like it.

2011-02-21T10:28:00.007+02:00

The fun words of our 1 year old.

So these are some of the words that Nadia has been using of late.

Peengurger – Peanut Butter
Pookabee – Peek-a-boo
‘Nake – Snake
‘Neeker- Sneaker
‘Nack – Snack
Bubble – Elmo
Apul – Apple
Apul– Peach
Apul– Pear
Apul/Teen – Nectarine
Paya – Pineapple, Papaya, Muskmellon
Mato – Tomato
Namanama S’ing – I want to swing
Happy – Please sing ‘If you're happy and you know it’
Kacker – Cracker

Play miss it - Basketball

Cockdoodle - rooster

2011-02-08T17:00:00.002+02:00

To Receive a Gift

I am learning something about myself. I am learning that I do not receive gifts well. Maybe it is that I do not feel I give gifts well and can never repay that person for the gift. Maybe it is a nagging belief that no-one actually really gives without expecting something in return. I think Mozambique has not always because often people have seen me for my money and do things because they expect something down the line. Or maybe I resist it because I have done Christian service for much of my adult life and at times I feel like I am being irresponsible. Maybe I feel I should return and establish myself instead of relying on others support. Maybe I also think that I need to do my share and accepting a gift, especially money, feels like I am not holding up my end. And we have always been told it is better to give than to receive.

So I resist it so much. Often MCC, colleagues or friends will do something for me or us. I resist it every time because I feel I do not deserve it or I do not want to waste MCC resources. I feel guilty and think of all the ways that I can pay it back. Or I avoid asking for other things because I feel I have received so much and do not want to ‘take’ more. Often I offer to shoulder some of the burden of the gift. Weird, eh.? Human nature, maybe?

My parents visit taught me something about generosity. I have been praying for God to teach me to be generous. They paid for tickets to come, travel, national parks, food and a lot of other things. They brought a suitcase full of gifts from relatives for us and Nadia of which we can never repay. MCC gave us a generous gift by giving us some extra time off which was perfect for there visit. We have been so well cared for and the gifts have been so generous. I realized, however, that I resisted every time my dad wanted to pay for dinner or I felt like the gifts we were sending back for Christmas for family are never enough for what they are doing. I felt I needed to do something; after all they paid a lot just to get here. But over the course of the several weeks we traveled together in South Africa I started to realize that maybe they actually want to pay for it and do not expect anything in return. Maybe in order for God to teach me about generosity he needs to teach me how to receive. With this in mind I started to accept the generosity and I relaxed as the guilt that so often plagues me in such situations disappeared. I started to see the act of love instead of the sacrifice.

The bible says that love does not expect anything in return. Maybe my friends actually do want to have us over and do not expect us to always return the favor equal amount of times. Maybe they just want to be with us because they love us. Maybe colleagues actually do care for us and want what is best for us because they love us. In fact, this is revolutionary thinking. Maybe God’s gift of Jesus, his death on the cross for the payment of our sins is actually a free gift given in love, a gift we can never repay nor are expected to repay. I have spent a lot of energy in my life doing things for God thinking he really wants something in return for his salvation, serving because I need to repay him. Maybe I need to stop and just marvel in the loving gift he gave? Accept it as a gift given, given because he wants to be with me, because he loves me.

Thanks Mom and Dad for teaching me this. I am not sure you realized that this happened but your generosity taught me what a loving gift really is, a gift, and I am truly grateful.

Love,
Joel

2011-02-07T17:37:00.002+02:00

Invite Your Enemies, maybe Your Friends if you like.

I found this very interesting in the bulletin from the St. Luke’s Anglican Church which we attended today.

Alpha Course Introduction Dinner
Invitations available to hand to your friends/enemies/acquaintances- all those in need to know Jesus and want to meet His family.

I have heard often the encouragement to invite friends and family to church but not very often my enemies. It seems like a novel idea. I suppose it would be pretty hard to be bitter toward, repay, damage, fight or even kill my enemy if I was concentrating on inviting him/her to church.

I often wondered that if I was fighting in war I would be killing someone that Jesus told me to ‘invite to church’ and ‘introduce to Jesus’ for example. I suppose if I killed him/her he would never get that chance. I suppose I would be actually condemning him, would I not?

2011-02-04T16:06:00.004+02:00

My dad and Nadia at the Baptist Guesthouse

Visit from my Parents

We had a wonderful visit from my parents the last 3 weeks. We have been staying in South Africa for the last few weeks and so it was easy for them to fly into Johannesburg. I was really excited to show them South Africa and Johannesburg especially since a lot of it is very much 1st world and a lot easier to get around in. The last time they visited was in Gondola and it was hot and just a harder place to be. Logistics were more difficult just by virtue of poor infrastructure and we did not have running water in our home.

This time we had a nice place to stay at the Baptist guesthouse with lots of place outside for us to enjoy playing with Nadia and having our tea and meals in the outdoors. We traveled a lot but it was a lot of fun. In Johannesburg we were able to visit a botanical gardens complete with a beautiful English rose garden. We attended the Apartheid museum and several of the local churches on Sunday. Johannesburg is a very dynamic city with rich and poor living right next to each other. The contrasts are quite visible yet and much of the city is walled in with electric fences, guards and closed neighborhoods. Despite this, the city is quite diverse and neighborhoods are getting more diverse with every color and ethnicity of people you can imagine. It has the best nightlife in South Africa and the arts are flourishing. It also has a rather mild, dry climate that makes it very live able and comfortable out of doors with many people having pools or indoor/outdoor living spaces.

Rose Gardents

Mid way through the visit we visited the city of Nelspruit along the escarpment of the Drakensburg passing through small towns on the way made up of separate sections of middle/upper class housing and sprawling poor townships made of decaying houses and shacks. While staying in Nelspruit we spent a day traveling in the lush green mountains, looking down the beautiful Blythe River Canyon and the drop of the escarpment. We ate pancakes and visited an African silk museum where I was able to try eating my first Mopani worms with my dad. Not bad actually.

Blythe River Canyon Rim

Eating Mopani Worms (not bad actually)

We then visited Kruger National Park. We saw two giraffes, lots of monkeys, one which really wanted the muffin I was eating, tons of elephants, zebra, wildebeest, rhino and much more. One heard of elephants walked across the road right in front of us. I actually put the car in reverse, ready to back off if the elephant decided to use our car for football practice.

This baboon wanted my muffin. I rolled the window up quick. Scary!

It was fortunate that in Maputo the weather was actually cool with some rain. It made for enjoyable days of walking the streets, exploring the old fort and trying out the sidewalk cafes in the park. We ate at our favorite Thai restaurant and spent a few days driving along the beachfront drive. It was really nice to be in Maputo and not have to work for a change. Just to enjoy the beauty and vibrancy of this beautiful and interesting city. It was also nice to be away from the walls and electric fences of Johannesburg and to enjoy walking this very walk able city.

Our way back was through Swaziland. It took a lot longer than expected and we counted more speed bumps along the highway than we cared for but the scenery as we approached the mountains was spectacular. We stayed at a farm where they provided our breakfast of fresh eggs, milk (with the cream) and homemade sausage. I suppose it was a lot like what it used to be when I was young and we got fresh eggs and milk from the farmer up the road. There was plenty of space to eat ouside and just enjoy the peace, quiet and beautiful scenery as well as the Swazi artwork, candles and beautiful batiks.

Swazi Breakfast

We spent the last few days back in Johannesburg. In the short time we were able to take a tour of Soweto Township by a very knowledgeable older man who grew up in the Apartheid era in the township itself. He was a teacher and had to often protect his own students form the police at times. It was interesting to see the area where students protested and several were shot by the police, Desmond Tuto and Mandela’s homes. Did you know they grew up just a few blocks from each other? For those of you who follow South African history, the blacks and colored peoples as they were defined were made to live in townships with minimal services, in shacks or matchbox houses and no electricity or water in their homes. They had to carry passes and could be searched at any time or restricted to certain areas of the city. The townships sprawl for miles and though things are slowly improving unfortunately Johannesburg has not yet solved its problems of informal settlements where people from other countries and the rural areas settle in shacks illegally. We saw one of 18 which actually contained 16,000 people in what looked to be about 100 acres of land. The city just cannot keep up.

Soweto

Cooling Towers in Soweto, symbol of appresive Apartheid. They never provided electricity for the township surrounding it.

The last two days were spent relaxing and playing games. It was sad to say good by but it was with good feelings because we had so much fun.

2011-01-09T17:10:00.001+02:00

Christmas Eve

I often wondered what it would have been like for Mary and Joseph on the eve of Christ’s birth. As the story usually goes, a kind and compassionate innkeeper offered the tired couple space in the stable. I have often wondered if the innkeeper was actually kind or compassionate. Wouldn’t it be more likely that Joseph had to push and shove to advocate for a room in the midst of many others who were looking for a space? Would it also be more likely that the innkeeper did not really care when he offered the stable, but he figured if anyone was crazy enough to stay there he could make an extra buck? After all, most innkeepers were probably keen to take advantage of the Roman census to make an extra buck? Isn’t that more like the world we live in? Bethlehem, most likely did not have the capacity to host a Roman census of which was forced upon her. Maybe it is my experience in Mozambique that in a culture similar to that of which Judea would have been in the time of Jesus, this is the more likely scenario. But what I have also learned is that in a rough place with rough and calloused people, even a reluctant offer is a sign of compassion when compared with nothing at all.

It was not our choice to be traveling from Maputo to Johannesburg on Christmas Eve. We, like the Jews, were subject to the authorities and had to submit our foreign documents and request a declaration letter to leave Mozambique while our documents were in process. This of course, took several days and in order to make the MCC Christmas celebration on the 25^th we needed to travel. As we entered the upper hills of the escarpment east of Johannesburg the car overheated. Fearing the worst we pulled over and the engine promptly stopped. After some time a kind young man stopped by in his pickup truck and in a heavy Afrikaans accent asked us if we needed help. We figured we needed a pull and he left to get his father and a rope to pull us to a neighboring place where another young man with his friends opened up a guestroom in their house for us to stay the night. We had not eaten and before they went out to celebrate Christmas Eve they asked us if we had eaten. They opened there fridge up and started giving us burgers, soda and other food. I found myself in the position so often of a poor family who had nothing to eat and was relying on the generosity of someone else. I was somewhat ashamed and thanked them over and over, even bowing a little not knowing what to do with myself. It was quite an awkward position.

After we had everything unloaded I was talking with the young man with regards to the next day and whether there was a mechanic in town and when our MCC colleagues would come to fetch us. He looked uncomfortable so I asked him if there was a problem.

‘Just don’t take my stuff,’ he replied uncomfortably.

Wow, my mouth about dropped open but thought, ‘Of course, he does not know me from Adam.’ South Africa has had a tumultuous history, distrust and theft and violent crime is more common than in North America of course he would be distrustful. I assured him it would no longer happen and thanked him once again for his generosity.

Of course all this was fairly disconcerting and I began to worry about all the details of the next days and weeks. How to fix the car? What to do when my parents visit if we do not have a car? The Christmas Eve we were missing with the MCC family?

I returned once more to the car to make sure it was locked. It was parked under a tree and as I turned around from locking the door I saw in the green of the grass just beyond the shadow of the tree, three sheep, five ducks and a couple of chickens all looking at me in a semi-circle. The almost full moon shown down through the tree branches like the star of Bethlehem and the sheep and ducks glowed in the moonlight. It was as if the manger was right in front of me in the shelter of the tree and we all were in the presence of the Lord. It was as if God was saying, “Peace be to you, a child has been born!”

Though I do not claim that we are similar to Mary and Joseph but I felt like we could somehow understand God’s care and there was something altogether holy about that night that I will never forget. I went back to our room so graciously given us, forgot about the details that had earlier occupied my mind and embraced my lovely daughter and her mother.

2011-01-09T16:44:00.001+02:00

Christmas Greetings

Dear friends and family,
Once again we are returning to the Christmas season to reflect on the birth of our Lord and Savior in a manger. I was reflecting on this and the night that Jesus was born. If Jesus were born in Mozambique it would be on a hot and starry night. He would be born outside, because that is where the animals live. He would be accompanied by the ever present mosquitoes, blare of a radio and the low of the cattle and goats in the distance as they come in from the pasture. The uncles, the aunts, the cousins and neighbors in the village would come to visit. The boys coming in from herding the cattle would be the shepherds and the elders from a far off village the wise men.

This is world’s apart from the snow, reflecting the moon and stars, the three wise men, lights and Christmas trees in there regalia, the stable, the inn, the ice cycles on the eves. But is it not the same baby that was born long ago, the baby promised in Isaiah, the man who would transform the world. Is it not the Messiah who came for that African widow, the Brazilian musician and the American sons and daughters? Is it not the boy who grew up and walked along the beaches and called the disciples his friends? Is it not the same man who said, ‘Father, forgive them’ as he died on a tree?

Our family finds ourselves once again in the heat. Mozambican Christmas is more about parties than it is about the sacred. Though the sacred is there and the churches celebrate, it is different than what we are used to and many times lonely. But that aside, we still remember that boy. And though our Christmas’s are different and we are far away, we remember you as well. We miss you and love you dearly.

We are doing well. It has been a year of changes and ups and downs as you all know. We moved from Chimoio, our friendships which we had developed and moved to Maputo. We struggled with the decision because we had grown to love the beautiful countryside but in the end we felt it was up to God’s will and we believe he chose. We had asked God to help us decide. We prayed. We moved.

Maputo has been good but an adjustment. It is fast paced, city life again. We are older and it is not as easy with a small child. Friendships have taken time but we are developing them. The work is not in the beautiful countryside, but it is fulfilling and we are building relationships for the first time with the people we work with. This is satisfying. We have had the opportunity to travel to South Africa and see some of the beautiful countryside. We have made some friendships with families with children for Nadia’s sake. And Nadia has grown so much. She is turning into a beautiful girl, inside and out.

Nadia’s personality is really beginning to show through. She is very determined and loves to be the center of attention. She laughs and smiles a lot and likes to make faces. Apparently she likes Katie better than us at this point because she does not put her to bed, bathe her or change her diaper. She loves to give kisses and hugs and dance, though her dance looks more like an Irish jig than a dance at this point. She loves to go outside and is a bundle of energy, shouting ‘go’ and taking of at a run when she can. And when she needs to do something she doesn’t want to do, wow, look out, what strength and determination.

We look forward to what the next year will hold for us. Going to the beach for Christmas at Xai-Xai, the visit of my parents Don and Shirley in January, the expansion of our work, the opportunity to get to know better friends, worshiping with various fellow believers, a new nephew/niece, growing as an MCC team and watching Nadia learn and grow as we become a family.

And as we look forward to this year we also look pray fully to the future and when it we will see you again. We thank you dearly for your love and prayers and wish we could give back even a fraction of the love and support that you have given us these last few years. We know it has not always been easy but neither was it easy for the family who had the boy in the stable.

Deep love and Christmas Blessings!

Joél, Jenny and Nadia

2011-01-09T16:34:00.002+02:00

A tribute to those we have known

Death is no stranger to Mozambique and though I have never seen anyone die in person I have known many who have passed away. Death has a way of waking one’s soul. It reminds one of the mortals that we are and as the bible says the fleetingness of our lives. Not that our lives are not important but that our character and the way we live is important. Let me tell you of a few we have known who have passed away in our time, some of which I have no names for in which to give them honor.

- Manuel Taimo’s daughter – I had barely begun my friendship with Manuel when he came to my door, a poor farmer with a deathly sick daughter at home. He asked me to carry her in the MCC truck to the hospital, his last hope. I carried her to the hospital and attended her funeral the next day. What the disease was is anyone’s guess. This is often the way it is.

- Joaquim, Mennonite Pastor – I was called to visit this pastor when he was sick, for us to pray. A week later another pastor showed up at my door and asked us to carry him in the MCC truck to the hospital. I drove 30 km on rough roads, got stuck on the way. It took several hours and many men to slowly push our car through the mud too solid ground. We eventually brought him to the hospital. He asked for me to be with him. I said I could not and his wife should be there by his side. The hospital only permits one person. Did I make the right choice? Only God knows. I was afraid. He died that night.

- Isabel – We visited this lady from time to time in her mud hut. She was a small frame of a women but very pleasant. She suffered from Tuberculosis. We spent many Sunday afternoons praying for her. Finally one day the pastor asked me to carry her with our car to her mother’s house in the country. I knew in my heart that this would be her final days. She passed away.

- Nameless persons from the bus accident of 2007 – One night as Jenny and I watched a movie, our friends called us. There was a horrible bus accident. We rescued our friends from the rubble. At least 15 people died.

- Padre Isaias, Anglican Priest – MCCers for many years have worked closely with Padre Isaias. I traveled with him, ate with him, celebrated weddings with him and spoke with him about agriculture and sand dams. He cared for his communities and wanted them to see God. He died in front of his congregation conducting Easter mass.

- Fernando, Mason for Sand Dams – Died along with many others in the village of Tchinda. Victim of a cholera outbreak.

- Lina, daughter of our friend- We had just moved to Maputo and befriended a single lady from Singapore with an only daughter. Lina was her mother’s world and the girl passed away suddenly one evening without prior warning, probably a victim of meningitis. Her grief was so much that her mother has disappeared from our life despite our attempts to console, listen and reach out to her.

There is more but these are the closer ones. If I look back on this list I realize why in the past years I have felt old, sometimes lifeless and depressed. I live, yet they do not, and I live thinking about it. Many were younger than I. Many had a lot of potential. Many could be helped if they had been born in my shoes. What if I would have carried others to the hospital? What if I had prayed enough? What if I had shown more care? What if I had not been afraid? Would it have made a difference?

I realized that the thought of heaven became much more real. I took comfort that this is not the end and that many will be there. I stopped going to funerals because it became too much. I didn’t have the energy or emotion to do so. I stopped feeling because it seemed every few days or weeks another person died and it became impossible to feel, hard to care. How could I say I am sorry several times a week and put feeling into it when all I could think was, ‘Another one dies’, shrug and go on with the day wishing I could feel deeper. Maybe this is what the Mozambican feels.

Meanwhile I have news from home that two people my parent’s age have passed away, people I knew well, victims of cancer, lives stopped short. I am too far away to provide any support or care for the families.

This all started because I got an e-mail message that Paulo Martinez passed away. He was an IVEPer and my former conversation partner in Beira. He was young, probably 25. We spent hours together over soda and donuts. We visited his church, his youth group. He was bright, happy, and thoughtful and was the one person that I felt I actually could connect to whenever I saw him. He was a student hoping to teach others English. In our country it could have been prevented. Why him?

2010-12-22T20:59:00.002+02:00

Christmas Fun

So we looked out our window and down where the bananas are usually sold was our very own Mozambican elf selling Santa hats for all to wear. They must have sold quickly because he was gone in a matter of minutes. We will be looking for the hats walking around town, appearing above the mangos selling in the markets, floating in fishing boats in the morning and entering and leaving the little mini-buses that pass through the streets of this tropical city. Actually, this begs a question. I wonder how Santa lands his sleigh in Moz?

2010-12-22T20:38:00.004+02:00

African Travels

Yesterday was an interesting day. We were stuck in Johannesburg after retreat for a few extra days. Despite the damage the lion did to our tire, the fan belt broke while a group was traveling in downtown Jo-burg to the Apartheid museum. We have gotten used to staying places longer than planned. It usually happens that some mechanical problem or other detains us and we keep 'hanging around'.

That said, we were on our way to pick up the car and were stopped at a stop light where we watched (in slow motion of course) a truck fly through the intersection and smash across the front of a car who had pulled out too far. Fortunately no-one was hurt and we left the scene where the one driver was hugging and consoling the second.

We managed to get the car fixed and a new tire to replace the one that the lion found so tasty and headed out of Jo-burg. We were fortunate to have the opportunity to pass by a pack of monkeys while we hurried down the N4 heading toward Nelspruit. However, they were quite near, actually on the shoulder. I was happy we did not have a chance to really examine our similarities as primates with a head on encounter. From there the trip was fairly uneventul until we reached the almost 2 hour entry into Maputo. The traffic was especially odious as we entered downtown near our house. At one point we were stalled at a light where a big screen shows films and advertisements on a smaller scale than Times Square. Aside from this entertainment we watched as someone else felt like entertaining us by running up to the car in front and yanking the cell phone from the drivers hands while she were talking. Of course, we were not so much entertained as astonished and rather shocked. Not that we were overly suprised because this sort of thing happens but it had never happened right in front of us. We promptly rolled our window up so as not to let it happen to us. We then thanked God for safely brining us home.

Thus another normal yet abnormal trip in Southern Africa.

2010-12-22T18:38:00.005+02:00

Hungry Lion

We always used to laugh at the South African chain next to the supermarket in Chimoio which seemed to be imitating the ever popular American fast food chains. The food, though we never tried it, was said to be less than appealing but the name, 'The Hungry Lion' seemed very fitting.

It was especially fitting this week. We were in Johannesburg for Southern Africa retreat this past week. It was a good time but we had a few mishaps. Each day activities were planned for people to participate in, going to the apartheid museum, hiking, and such. It so happened that one of the activities was visiting a lion park. It was said to be fascinating but this particular time the lions were more interested in our cars. I was no with the group but as it was told to me, one such lion chose the spare tire on the back of our car for its affection. The driver said that he felt the car shake and in moments the lion had bit through the tread and sidewall, deflating the tire. Thank goodness he chose the spare.

I guess our car fared the better. A lion jumped into the back of the second car, puncturing the tarp and scratching the side. Apparently it had been feeding time and that car looked similar to the one that brings the meat.

It seems that we had heard of a similar instance where some other MCCers a few years earlier had been to the same park before going camping, marinating barbeque meat and all in the back of the trailer. I guess they had quite a pack of lions following them through the park. I guess we should have learned.

Picture to come

2010-11-16T19:44:00.002+02:00

Summer has arrived
Well actually, it should probably be called springtime. The Jacarundas with their deep purple, blue flowers in contrast with the red, orange of the Flambouyant Flame acacias line the streets of Maputo. The leaves are coming out of the trees and people take to spending countless hours on the verandas and terraces of their buildings or the sidewalk outide their apartments, offices and houses as the sun climbs higher and higher in the sky piercing the flowers in the trees and landing on the concrete pavement. Yes, it is beautiful, colorful, green and hot. My biggest fear from our apartment was either that the leak would continue in the rainy season despite the quick fix job of cement laid on the terrace above our apartment or that our apartment would heat up and not let the heat dissipate. I guess the second came true. Since the arc of the sun is higher in the sky, the sun beats down on all sides of our apartment at various points throughout the day. This made it quite cool in the cool season but quite hot in comparison with outside in the hot, season especially in our bedroom whose walls seem to trap the heat in the large expanse above the doorway. We have ceiling fans but they seem to just push the warm air around. Fortunately the air in Maputo is a dry air and not the humidity in Beira or it would be unbareable. Nadia's hair is continually wet with sweat. We wonder where she gets it from. She seems to even sweat at lower temperatures. As much as I want to cuddle with my daugher it does not encourage affection. It could be worse and I thank God that we do not have to put buckets down and clean mold of the walls which would be the case if we had a leaky ceiling.

Actually, I should be more then thankful. Our colleagues are suffering in Tete with over 100 degree temperatures and we for the most part have been comfortable. The office in which we work has airconditioning, which may make the heat feel worse when we arrive at home but it brings the releif throughout the day.

Next week we go to Beira for meetings. I think we will be ready to return after a few days and probably Maputo will feel amazing in comparison.

2010-10-24T11:32:00.003+02:00

The “Signs” of the Kingdom

Last Sunday in church I was listening to the pastor preach about the fall of man, the broken world and how we continue to live in broken bodies that decay but that Jesus brought hope of a new earth, new heaven and new bodies. He spoke of the deposit, the ‘Holy Spirit’, that Christ puts in us that will be completed the day Christ returns. He also spoke that for a while Jesus healed and performed miracles but he did not heal everyone nor did he focus solely on this with a broader mission in mind. These were ‘examples’ of what it will be when Jesus returns and restores our bodies, the heavens and earth. These were ‘signs’ of the kingdom to call people to his larger mission.

I struggled with that a lot. I felt like what he was saying was that the healing the physical brokenness, which I have come to believe and am putting my energy into here in Mozambique as an integral part of Christ’s ministry is only a ‘sign’ as opposed to part of Jesus mission. I know he was not exactly saying that and what he was saying was right in the context it seemed to hit a chord with a struggle I have had the last few years. I have always struggled when living in the US where Christianity permeates and taken for granted in our culture (at least in my experience) and there is a lot of 'speaking' the gospel and the great commition. While these are good and necessary, I have always felt there are not enough people concentrating on ‘doing’, for example, feeding the hungry and demonstrating the love of Jesus, including myself. Here in Mozambique, I have struggled with the fact that there is such a deep spiritual poverty. Christianity is fairly new and there is much work and discipleship that needs to happen but not enough workers and a lot of the problems are stemming from this spiritual poverty. I suppose that the same can be said in the US but I feel like our challenges are different because in the US we have ‘heard’ a lot but need to ‘do’ or spend the time doing. In Mozambique people need to ‘hear’ and ‘do’. But the question is always how do you ‘do’ if you have not ‘heard’. I have often struggled in my life as well because I feel like I am a better ‘doer’ than a ‘proclaimer’ of Jesus message and salvation and that my gifting and desires are more concentrated in what I am doing with MCC. But I have not been without my doubts and questioning. I have questioned at times whether I am doing what God wants of me when everyone else seems to be evangelizing and discipling in Mozambique. I have struggled whether by 'doing' we really do anything sometimes when there is so much spiritual poverty and when the doing does not always work the way we had desired. To add to my struggle a fellow missionary asked me a year ago what the ‘mission’ of MCC was. I tried to tell him and he proceeded to ask how it was different than a secular organization working humanitarian assistance. Inside I felt like I wanted to shout, ”We are doing it in the name of Christ, that should make a difference.” And “Many secular humanitarian organizations have Christians working in them.” What I was really feeling inside was the opposite of affirmation for the mission which I have always felt a desire to and had felt God had put there. His comment really added to my struggle and made me doubt myself and my work and whether my gifting and desires were really in line with what God wants for my life. This has caused considerable pain for some time.

In light of this history I thought a lot about what the pastor meant by a ‘sign’. I was reading in Matthew 15 where Jesus heals the Canaanite woman and then feeds the five-thousand. The very next chapter the Pharisees and the Sadducees come to Jesus and ask him for a sign from heaven.

Jesus replies,”When evening comes, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red’, and in the morning you say ‘Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.”

Somehow it just jumped out at me. Here these men are asking for Jesus for a sign from heaven and the signs are all around. They are clearly stated in the chapter before. They maybe even came to Jesus while he was doing these ‘signs’. By doing this he was fulfilling scripture and proclaiming that the kingdom was near. They were unspoken signs. These men did not get it though it was all around them. Of course Jesus is not going to tell them anything. They were looking for something else.

Then it dawned on me. I am one of many people in Christ’s body who are working to feed the hungry, heal the sick, bring water to the thirsty and release the oppressed. When we do this we are showing the ‘signs’ of the kingdom. We are ‘proclaiming’ and ‘fullfilling’ scripture that started with Jesus. These are the ‘signs’ that say to people, ‘Draw near to Jesus, come, repent, join the kingdom of God for it is near’. I have always heard this said over and over in sermons and Christian writing but I do not think I really understood it. I was ‘seeing’ but never ‘understanding’.

This was one of the most affirming realizations for me and what I am doing. Honestly, I cried. It was as if Jesus was saying, no, you are proclaiming me. Continue to do so.

Joel

2010-10-24T10:08:00.008+02:00

Vacation

We went on vacation for two weeks to South Africa. We spent a few days in the Drakensburg Mountains, exploring the natural beauty and the rest of the time at Mercy Air's hospitality house in White River. We didn't do much. We visited a number of a waterfalls and read alot. Here's some pictures:

Joel and Nadia in front of a water fall.

Joel and Nadia at "Potholes" (circular holes in the rocks in this canyon dug out by the river)

Jenny and Nadia on the trail.

Nadia at the Lowveld Botanical Gardens

Joel and Nadia relaxing. Notice, Nadia has Daddy's phone in her hand. Every morning, the first thing she did was grab his phone and jabber away. She'd talk a bit then hand it to one of us to talk then want it back.

One of our picnics outside. We took advantage of the space to eat outside as much as possible. In the background is a trampoline where Joel and Nadia spent many happy times bouncing.

2010-10-23T20:02:00.006+02:00

Learnings
Two years ago, I wrote a list of some of the Things I’ve learned during our first two years in Mozambique. Considering that two years has passed since then and we have two more years of our contract, here is my list at the year four mark:
- Living simply is complicated and not easily understood.
- Sometimes dressing nicely matters.
- Having a child opens doors and closes others.
- A child creates space for many conversations that I ordinarily would not have.
- A child changes one’s perspective.
- If I am generous with myself, I am more apt to be generous with others.
- God is faithful.
- The African sun is a powerful bleach for diapers.
- I’ve wanted to be involved with MCC for a long time and now after four years in it, I still don’t know what I want to do in it! But I enjoy what I do.
- Beauty matters to my personal happiness.
- God is good. Even when life isn’t.
- Prayer is necessary for my sanity.
- Clean feet feel good.
- It is a lot easier to be self-sacrificing when it is for my child.
- Laughter helps keep perspective.
- My favorite things about Mozambique are still the same—Mozambicans’ smiles, lily pads and bananas.
- Tea tastes better if it is made in a tea pot
- Nothing else matters to me when my child is sick.

Many of my learnings from year two still apply…

2010-09-28T16:43:00.003+02:00

Strappy Sandals
I bought a pair of strappy sandals this afternoon from some guys who sell used shoes on the sidewalk. They cost me 120 meticais (about $3.33). In an earlier post I questioned the purchase of such sandals. I justified them today with the rationale that working in the national offices of CCM, I need look professional. Plus from my American perspective, $3 black leather strappy sandals is a bargain.

2010-09-11T17:26:00.002+02:00

Riots over for now

A week has now past since we were stuck in our apartment while the city was in uproar. Things have pretty much returned back to normal. In the wake of everything it seems that at least 12 people were killed and hundreds injured. It also appears that the police were not prepared even though they had 3 days warning and had been donated protective equipment this year from Portugal. It also appears that they had used tear gas and rubber bullets in ways that were in appropriate and real bullets at times.

At our prayer meeting on Monday each person told of the things that happened in their neighborhood and how the situation was. One lady told of their pastor’s son who had been shot innocently for being on a scene where police were chasing after a group of teenagers who had hi-jacked a car. He died. Another woman told of rescuing a Portuguese woman who was walking with her suitcases from the airport into town. She also told of the tear gas that ended up in her neighbors’ house burning people and furniture. A third, who had been with me in the morning of the riot, had to walk 33 kms back to his house. I asked him if he had suffered along the way because of the rioters.

“No, but I suffered when I got home because I was so tired,” he exclaimed.

I told my story of how Jenny almost ended up in it and how I had to look up in the dictionary what the word ‘greve’ meant at the CCM office before realizing the seriousness of the situation. That story is going around because people have found it quite funny.

I guess the government has been in meetings and has decided to lower prices back down for fuel, electricity, water and wheat. This should be satisfactory to people. What is more is that the government decided to reduce some of the personnel subsidies they receive. What I have heard is that they have decided to pay for food out of their own salaries and diminish the amount of fuel they have available per week for their cars (which are bought by the state). Yes, it is true, up till this point they have received a salary, had all food paid for, receive their own car and 70 liters of fuel a week paid by tax payer money. So you can see why people would be striking on food costs. But, I am impressed by the steps the government took. One person said that it does not make a difference to them and shows how much they are making. But realistically, how many of us would reduce our salaries and lifestyle for the sake of others. Maybe we should not be so quick to judge. Would our government do that for the sake of its people?

Yes, there is still great disparity and the Mercedes, Audis, Hummers and BMW’s keep driving around Maputo but I am happy to say that maybe this government knows a little bit about what it means when Mozambicans say, “Estamos juntos!”, “We are together!”.

At least for now.

2010-09-11T16:58:00.002+02:00

Maputo Riots September 3

I was listening to conversations within CCM this morning on the situation. According to my colleagues, this riot was worse than the last one in 2008 and there was a more violent response from the government. 10 people died this time, many shot by police, and a lot more destruction happened to stores, banks, fuel stations, etc. It is calm for now but the government response was not very good yesterday (September 4). It appears that it is mostly youth but it is not over and people are saying it will get worse before it will get better. I guess messages are circulating to start again at 12 so we will see what will happen. Otherwise it appears that things are getting back to normal today. Buses are running, shops are opening up and even mini-buses are starting to run. I think they may be opening schools.

2010-09-11T16:48:00.004+02:00

Maputo Riots

September 3

It’s looking like the protests have stopped for now. They started on Wednesday and gradually calmed down yesterday afternoon. People were in the streets, burning tires and throwing rocks. The police intervened. The road between Maputo and Matola was one of the main protest points and until this morning the road was blocked. Today, public transportation (big buses) resumed and chapas (mini buses) were more sporadic. There were rumors going around that the protests were supposed to start again today at noon, but we haven’t heard of anything significant. The government met yesterday to consider the crisis. People are not satisfied with the government’s response to the protests against the price increases (not sure what their response was but it wasn’t what the people wanted). Things are exacerbated by the fact that government workers get all their expenses paid for so are not affected by the increases. Life seems to be resuming back to normal from our vantage point.

September 1

This morning, as we were getting ready, Rebeca (Nadia's nanny) called me and said that there weren’t any chapas running, so could I come get her. I got Nadia ready and started driving to her house. As I entered a neighborhood near her neighborhood, there were a lot of people in the streets and they started telling me to turn around. I stopped and talked with two women who said that if I didn’t turn around, someone would burn my car. I could see smoke ahead so turned around and tried to go a different way. That way too had smoke in the distance so I decided to go home and tell Rebeca to stay home. Joél, meanwhile went to work and only a few people came into the office. Someone mentioned something about a 'greve'. It is a word we have always confused with 'grave', which means grave. Joel had to look it up in the dictionary which said it means strike. They had the radio on and would tell Joél what was happening. It turns out that someone organized via SMS texts a protest against rising food, fuel, electric and cement costs. Various places around Maputo turned violent and people were burning tires, throwing rocks at cars and breaking into stores and warehouses. Joél had some meetings scheduled for today so wanted to stay at the office but (thankfully) came home for the day. I didn’t feel safe alone, more emotionally than worried about actual threats. His co-wokers said that our area of the city (and where the office is) is pretty safe. As the day went on, we saw fewer and fewer people on the streets and all the businesses near us were closed. We watched the news on TV which has been analyzing the violence. We talked with our next door neighbors who said that they were staying home too. During the morning, the kids in the building seemed to relish in a day off from school, running up the stairs and all over the roof but by the afternoon, they were in their apartments. When Joel came home he went up on the roof to look. He said that it looked like there was a ring of fire around the city about a half mile to the north and west. By the afternoon we knew that things had calmed down a little when one of our neighbors who like to play their music loudly started their stereo; I guess they too stopped watching the news. We called the MCC rep to let her know what was happening (and the SALT participant who lives in Matola, a suburb of Maputo also affected by the protests, who couldn’t get a bus into town so went back to her host family).

We’re safe and not in danger. We keep praying for peace and it confirms to us the relevance of MCC’s work with systemic programs. It seems so sad. I keep thinking that people resort to violence when it’s their last resort or feeling powerless. They are angry with the government because it’s allowing the price increases, but here it seems, people riot or join in things without thinking. So I wonder how many people were swept along with the wave of emotion without thinking through things. I’m thankful we’re safe.

2010-09-05T15:11:00.000+02:00

Living Simply

I’ve been doing some thinking lately about living simply. It is a concept that though my parents never (that I remember) explicitly said we are trying to live simply, is something of their faith that I adopted for myself. And blessedly, my husband too, believes in living simply. We have tried to live without a lot of stuff. But since moving to Maputo we have had to reevaluate what living simply means for us.

One reason we’ve had to re-examine it is because we had to furnish an apartment, which made us feel like we were buying a lot of stuff (we were but that comes with the territory). One of the key questions was the durability of whatever we purchased, thinking ahead to whatever MCCer comes after us and inherits our purchases. An important factor for me in living simply is the difference between frugality and cheapness. Something might have a low price tag, which appeals to my wanting to be a good steward of MCC’s money, but if it isn’t good quality, it really isn’t worth buying.

Another reason that causes me to think about ‘what does it mean to live simply’ is encountering wealthy Mozambicans. Recently, I arranged a host family for our new SALT participant. Katie, the SALT participant, will be here for a year. After CCM sending out a letter requesting volunteers for host family, the only one that volunteered was a woman in Matola, a suburb of Maputo. The family has money and I know she does not understand MCC’s desire to live simply. In their house, they have multiple televisions in one room, several guest cottages out back and a couple of gazebo-like places for hanging out outside. They are definitely not the norm of Mozambique that I know.

For most of my life I have thought about living simply as an attempt to identify with the majority of the world’s populace—living simply so that others my simply live. Embarrassingly, only recently has the idea of living simply occurred to me as a spiritual discipline, like prayer or fellowship with other believers. Living simply, as spiritual discipline is a means for pursuing a closer relationship with Christ because I am not burdened by a lot of material things.

Living simply as a spiritual discipline opens the discussion to the poor. If I live simply in order to identify with the poor, it doesn’t make sense to those who are poor and could be construed as patronizing. A spiritual discipline opens the door for all to enter and journey together, drawing closer together and to Christ. So then for me, as I am coming to understand it, living simply is living with enough and being content with what I have. It can also mean taking into consideration what others have and eliciting others’ advice about purchases and lifestyle decisions.

The concept of enough is an odd one. It doesn’t make sense to my selfish desires of wanting more or hoarding what I have. Having enough means different things for different people. I’m sure that some people think that Joél and I live a bit too austere and other people think we have too much. It’s probably a little of both. But I am content with what I have? Not all the time. For example, I would really like a new pair of strappy sandals. I can easily justify it, especially since the ones I have just broke this morning. I could easily go to a cobbler—there are two within a block of our apartment to have him sew the strap back onto the shoe, but really I want to use it as an excuse to buy a new pair of sandals. If I would ask people I knew in Chimoio, what to do, they would recommend a cobbler and our nanny here would too. I don’t know what our new work colleagues would recommend. Friends and family in the States, would recommend I buy a new pair of shoes—it’s not worth hunting down a cobbler in the States to repair 10 year old shoes. I hear both sets of advice in my head.

Yesterday we took Nadia to a park where she could run around and play outside. We left the park feeling very alone. We don’t really fit in at the park, though it is filled with other foreigners, their children and nannies. There is a really nice café, a play ground, soccer field, and paths for walking or riding bike. We feel like we do not fit in at the park because we bring our own child and watch her instead of bringing our nanny (who only watches her when I’m at work). Also, we chose not to go to the café—it’s a bit too expensive for our taste—where all the adults hang out. So we are on the grass, playing with our daughter, where the nannies are congregated, looking after other people’s children. We normally walk to the park, though yesterday we drove. Our car, a MCC car with its bush road wornness, does not compete with the shiny new luxury SUV’s. Going to the park makes us feel lonely and like we are doing something odd in trying to live with enough. However, when we get home to our apartment, it feels like we are making the right decisions for us—choosing to live in a Mozambican neighborhood, choosing to live in a small apartment with primarily locally made furniture, choosing to buy the majority of our food and groceries from street vendors and local shops.

I am also coming to understand living simply as how I govern my time. If I try to live with fewer material goods in order to not be encumbered by things in my pursuit of a relationship with Christ, the same should also be applied in how I spend my time. Living in Mozambique has given us the luxury of a lot of family time. We do not have evening engagements very often which take one of us away. I have found that I really value the long dark evenings (the sun goes down early year round) with Joél and it’s been good for our relationship. Living in a different culture has its challenges and for Joél and I who are processors, there have been many evenings when we have talked about what we are experiencing, trying to understand, and ending in prayer.

A spiritual discipline is something that is a process. One does not attain perfection or reach a place where one can say that he/she accomplished it. Thankfully, in pursuing a relationship with Christ, he walks along side of us and teaches us what we need for our own journey.

2010-08-28T09:41:00.002+02:00

Jenny is always texting on her phone to friends, colleagues and for work. Guess who else is texting.

2010-08-28T09:09:00.003+02:00

Navigating Maputo
This week we had the 2 SALT and 1 YAMEN participant from Brazil arrive here in Maputo. Jenny did the orientation for them this week. We had fun taking them to the market, to the beach and around town on the weekend. In the market we passed by people selling everything from shoes, toenail clippers, hair extensions to baby toys. It was backed with people shouting out their wares, people sorting through clothes and people dodging one another. It was one of those times, however, that I realized that I have aculturated because I am totally comfortable there and I have no fear anymore. It is as if I were in a mall on a Saturday afternoon and totally relaxed. I wonder how the new people who were with me felt, however, being there first days here. We sent two of them on there way and Jenny organized a language teacher, conversation partner and host family for the SALT participant who is staying in Maputo to work with me in the CCM Programs Department.

Katie, the SALT participant in Maputo successfully navigated the chapas with one of her host sisters. She is staying outside of Maputo in a town called Matola which can take 1 1/2 hours in rush hour to get into the city. Since the host sister was not available to take her home we had to figure out a way to get her home. After various questions to colleagues and acquaintances we were successfully managed to find out where we needed to go to catch the bus but no-one was willing to help and no-one could tell us what the schedule of the buses was. This is not surprising. I was surprised there was a schedule at all. So in any case we decided it would be best to go down and wait at the bus stop.

Now Maputo is a lot larger then Beira and Chimoio which we are used to. A LOT LARGER!!! There are so many buses going all over the place and the bus stop downtown was packed with people going to the miriad of places where they live in the city. Beira had only a handful of chapa routes and Chimoio, only 2. Fortunately, after 4 years in Mozambique I am used to large crowds of people where I stand out and chaos and I no longer fear it. People called me 'White' and tried to sell us stuff as we passed and I smiled because I felt at home. We asked around and I finally was able to locate where the spot was. We watched as people crammed themselves into the back of the buses.

"How are we going to get you in?" I asked Katie.

"Oh, that was the way it was this morning, you just have to push and shove," she said.

After a while a nice woman asked us if we it was our first time here. She seemed trustworthy so I said yes, we are getting a bus for Katie. She directed us toward the train station about a half mile away. By this time it was getting dark so Katie and I walked to our car and drove there as fast as we could and drove down just in time to catch the bus which was about to leave. We were lucky, I would have ended up taking her out to her place in which I would have missed supper and probably arrived late in the evening. I was glad to leave because as the dark approached I knew that the place where I was would get more dangerous for a person like me if I hung around.

2010-07-27T20:04:00.004+02:00

Maputo's Cafes

Maputo is known for a little flair, for it's African Jazz, for it's outdoor cafes and, you guessed it, coffee. So, those of you who know me, would understand why I could easily come to like this place. Yes, I do miss the beautiful green forests and pastures of Manicaland but each place has its blessings. Jenny and I have decided to take each saturday and test out a new cafe with its plethorah of sweet rolls, donuts and good coffee (tea for Jenny).

Nadia sharing a cup of java (er, I mean sippy cup with water) with me at Cafe Cristal

2010-07-27T19:41:00.006+02:00

Maputo-Beira-Maputo: Second time, second verse, a whole lot of driving, thankfully, not worse.

I never did report on our trip to Beira for team meetings. The trip was a whole lot easier with out the breakdowns we had when we moved to Maputo. It was quite enjoyable driving through the country laden with palm trees and baobob trees. We stopped overnight in Vilanculus on our way. Unfortunately, it is still the run down town we initially thought it was and any lodging is either way over priced or cheap and run down. So, what did we do. We stayed in a run down place and saved our money. Fortunately the food in the evening was excellent. Jenny and I had crab curries and it was the best I have had in Mozambique. It will have to be a stop on our next trip and we will stay in the rooms at this restaurant which were cheaper and nicer.

Enjoying some leisure time in Maxixe

We enjoyed the 'despedida' or going away party for Steve and Cheryl in Beira. Our wonderful cook, and Steve and Cheryl's maid, Aziza, did the preparations with lots of good food and sodas to follow. Many of our local partners were invited and we enjoyed good conversation. I noticed that it was one of those times when I realized that I had made friends in that part of the country. We sat down and had many a good conversation over world cup football which was in the later stages in South Africa.

Aziza cooking food

Cheryl with the food all prepared

On our way back, we passed through Chimoio for one last night and mourned as we said once again goodbyes to our wonderful staff, the beautiful terrain of Manica and our wonderful house and yard. Life is full of goodbyes for us.

On our way back we stayed in Maxixe in a house that was occupied in the past by MCCers. It is a guesthouse for the Anglican church and is set among the coconut palms along the banks of the bay between Maxixe and Inhambane. Truly a restful sight and much better then any hotel we could have found.

View of house toward bay

Nadia exploring the yard around the house in Maxixe

The next day we arrived safely back to Maputo after taking advantage of a few stops along the way to buy some excellent Piri-Piri (hot sauce).

2010-07-22T19:29:00.003+02:00

Food
I find myself thinking alot about food lately. I am constantly on the search for new recipes to make with the fresh foods I am able to get. My problem is two fold: 1. I don't like to repeat recipes much and 2. Alot of recipes, though they may not be difficult, when using vegetables are time consuming because of how much chopping is involved. So I am on the look out for new recipes that do not take much time to prepare. Sometimes that cannot be avoided given that pre-prepared vegetables do not exist (there are some canned ones, but few frozen and definitely not pre-prepared ones).

It's greens season now. The other day I tried a new corn bread recipe that a friend had sent me over a year ago that has spinach in it. It was really good. But the recipe called for a 10 oz. package of frozen spinach. I don't have 10 oz. of frozen spinach. I have a random amount of fresh spinach, which after soaking in water and bleach to sanitize it, I chopped and boiled to prep it for the corn bread. Mozambicans prepare greens (mostly collard greens) with ground peanuts and coconut. It's quite yummy and is a complete protein when combined with rice or shima (corn meal mush). But I like to try new recipes and so am constantly perusing my cook books for a recipe that calls for any type of greens that I can. In the past week, we've cooked a mashed potato-greens dish, a spicy potato and greens dish, a sumptuous curry vegetable-chicken soup and a chick pea-greens salad with tomatoes. Joel wonders why we can't just prepare the same thing on a regular basis. I like variety in my meals, to the detriment of my husband who would like to eat things multiple times. My parents had/have similar conversations. So if any one has any good recipes for greens, send them my way!

Maputo has a plethora of fresh fruits and vegetables. I was afraid I would really miss the 25th of June market in Chimoio, which was 2 blocks from our house. I miss it but for different reasons than availability of produce; I miss the vendors and how low key shopping there was. Across the street from our apartment here in Maputo is Mercado Janet (named after the American wife of one of the heros of the Mozambican independence movement). The vendors have their produce beautifully displayed, as if it is a grocery store or a market like the Reading Terminal in Philadelphia. The first time I went, I was shocked at the prices. I'm not in Chimoio anymore! I'm in the capital city and though, Mozambique produces alot of fruits and vegetables, it seems like the majority come from South Africa. So now, instead of buying 15+/- bananas for 10 meticais, I pay 20 meticais ($0.75) for a kilogram which is 6 or so bananas. Perhaps the prices are more realistic for the labor that goes into the cultivation and harvest or perhaps the prices are elevated because of the location in the city. I just have to adjust my thinking to these new prices.
Sometimes it is difficult to make purchases, knowing that people in North America donated the money to support our life and work here. We expected higher prices than we had in Chimoio and yet the reality is an adjustment to renegotiate prices in my head.

I've read that the majority of the world spends a significant amount of their income on purchasing food. We in North America might complain about food prices but in reality the amount we spend on food in proportion to our income is relatively low compared to our neighbors around the world. For example, our housekeeper in Chimoio took out an advance against her salary equal to 2 months' worth in order to buy corn for the year. This will not be enough for her family of 5 and does not include breakfasts or accompanying stew or rice (for variety). She tried to plant a field last year, but because the rains were delayed and she was helping her parents cultivate their field, she lost her crop. It's sobering to think about it.

2010-07-04T15:55:00.004+02:00

For the past two months in Chimoio, internet access has been touch and go. For two weeks shortly after we returned to Moz from the States, we did not have any cell phone and thus internet access because we used the cell network to get online. When it was finally fixed (a huge fibre optic cable in the ocean was damaged), the network coverage was still sketchy. Below are a few posts I (Jenny) wrote during that time.

2010-07-04T15:55:00.001+02:00

More Savings Group Impact

Another update about savings groups written by Steve Hochstetler Shirk, MCC Co-Representative in Mozambique:

Dona Cristina was in our office again this week for some work on reporting. Some items that came out of our discussion:

- A group in southern Mozambique just sent photos of 8 chairs, some cups, and jars that they had bought for their local church, after distributing their savings at the end of a cycle. When people have money, they start looking around and seeing the needs right among them, feeling that they have the power to do something rather than feeling poor.
- These groups motivate people to get moving, because people think, "I've got a Savings meeting coming up; I need to have something to put in." So they get busy selling or making something, doing a job, "move here, turn there, mix it up there..." (mexer aqui, mexer aí, mexer aqui). Whereas before, she said, many people just sat around or even "would be sleeping," thinking that they are poor and don't have a job and therefore can't do anything.
- A group in central Mozambique just did its distribution. They had collected 41,700 MT (approx 1400 USD). This was their second cycle, and in the first cycle they'd collected some 4000 MT. People start out with a certain suspicion that the people organizing this will in some way walk off with their money. When they discover that it really is their money, for them, they get motivated - in this case they increased their savings by 1000% from one cycle to the next.
- She noted with a laugh that there is money that "it doesn't hurt to give away," referring to the separate sack of money from interest (from loans) and fines (from members who violate group rules). No one knows how much of it came from where, so it doesn't hurt to give that money for other purposes. Even so, groups have had members voluntarily give from their own savings to improve the local church facilities or help needy people.

Finally, she said that they are no longer going to speak of this as a Women's Society activity (of the United Church of Christ), they are going to speak of it as the Family Development program. There are women who are sitting around doing nothing, but they can think "I'm part of the Women's Society." Also, not everyone wants to save regularly. On the other hand, everyone has a family, and everyone can think and needs to think that "My family's development begins with me." Savings groups are one way people can foster that development, but they are not the purpose of the activity, they are merely an instrument toward other ends.

15 May 2010

2010-07-04T15:54:00.000+02:00

No “Rede” (network)

It’s amazing how much two days without “rede” (cell phone network coverage) working makes me (Jenny) feel isolated. We are waiting for the network to get back up and running and it feels like it has been a long time since we had a signal, when in reality it has only been since Sunday (it’s now late Tuesday afternoon). We get our email through the cell phone and so we have not been able to check email and hear from any of our family, friends or work colleagues for two days. We are waiting to hear if all of our luggage came into Beira from their gallivanting in Europe without us. I long to text a friend to ask her to go out for tea sometime and catch up with her after three months away. But there’s no rede.

Tomorrow, Joél was scheduled to go on a trip to visit the sand dams in Tete because the prime minister was going to visit. But it was canceled. The funny thing is how we learned his trip was canceled. The Christian Council of Mozambique (CCM) in Tete was hosting the visit and when the visit was canceled, the director tried to call Beira to let the MCC rep (also going on the trip) know. However, the cell network is down and it seems like most landline phone lines are experiencing difficulties in these central provinces. Sr. Tiago finally was able to contact his CCM counterpart in Beira who then physically went over to the MCC office to inform the MCC rep of the change. Steve, then tried repeatedly to call the CCM Manica office to tell Joél (we don’t have a land line phone). He tried all morning and around 11:30 got through to the office. After talking, Sr. Moriane then drove to our house to inform Joél.

And when we get rede, I will post this.

Tuesday, 27 April

2010-07-04T15:53:00.001+02:00

Immunizations

I took Nadia to get her measles vaccine this morning. When we first arrived back in Mozambique with her, I asked around about where to get her immunizations. I was referred to the public health center in downtown Chimoio. So, since then, I have been taking Nadia there every month. Some months she gets shots, other times, just weighed and measured. The Center is open from 7:00 to 12:00 every week day morning.

Mozambique offers free healthcare and childhood vaccines. My understanding of the Mozambican health system is that people get to the clinic really early in the morning and wait until the nurse calls them, for whatever ailment they have—sickness or immunizing their child. My experience at this clinic was service without having to wait very long. I learned today that that is my service.

This morning, we went earlier than usual because I wanted to get Nadia vaccinated before her morning nap. The clinic waiting area, an outdoor area with cement benches shaded by a roof in a courtyard of a larger health center, was full of women and their babies already at 8:15. We showed up and waited in the line for weighing babies. It was about 7-8 women and babies long which was plenty of time for me to wrangle Nadia out of the baby carrier she was in, undress her completely and finagle her into the sack from which she is hung to be weighed. Just before we weighed her, she peed, soaking the sack, my pant leg and the floor beneath us. I guess I looked apologetic because the nurse said something like, “It happens” (I know it does, I just didn’t want my child to do it!). She weighed 8.8 kg (19 lbs 5¾ oz). Then we stood in line to have her length measured. I attempted to dress her while she wiggled and tried to touch all sorts of interesting things in the cramped line (people’s hair, other babies). When it was our turn, I laid Nadia down on a board that had a measuring tape stuck to it. I held her head next to the top of the board and the nurse held her feet and moved another board to the end of them. She was 70 cm = 28 in. I asked the nurse where to go to get Nadia vaccinated. She replied that I should wait on the benches because the immunizations hadn’t started yet. I found myself a spot on a bench and waited. Nadia fell asleep and they hadn’t begun vaccinating.

Waiting gave me an opportunity to observe, having already disrupted the norm by showing up to weigh and measure my child. In the months I have been taking Nadia there, I have never seen another foreign woman, as light skinned as me (there could be but never at the same time I go or could be darker skinned). Women of all economic classes were present at the clinic. Babies had all sorts of different diapers—some were disposable diapers, some had the normal terry cloth diapers and some had just a folded up capulana. Most all the babies were bundled up (except for when they were weighed) and several people asked me if Nadia’s feet were cold because she didn’t have socks or shoes on (it was in the low 70’s—cold for here). I found one woman’s question ironic because her child wore shoes and socks but had bare legs, where as Nadia was wearing long pants and was barefoot. Babies of all ages were present and surprisingly though there were numerous present who could walk or crawl, all were held by their mothers.

After sitting for a while, I decided to go home. Nadia was asleep and I could bring her back later in the morning, get some work done and avoid the long line for vaccines.

When we returned, the head nurse with whom I usually related asked me where I had gone. She said that she had looked for me. She promptly got Nadia’s vaccine and filled out the information needed for documentation. Then she gave Nadia her shot. I told her that I had gone home instead of waiting in line. Her response was that I do not have to wait in line, because I am a foreigner.

I don’t know how to take that. On one level, I am thankful that it takes less time for us to get Nadia’s vaccines and I don’t have to sit and wait. On another level, it saddens me that I get such prompt service and others have to wait. It feels like cheating. And yet, it feels like that is what is expected by the average person—foreigners, like myself, get to go to the head of the line. I don’t know if I should fight it. I do some by waiting in line to weigh and measure Nadia. I don’t completely because, frankly it works to my advantage and in my foreign mentality time is money/less time waiting around allows me to do something else. However, waiting gives me opportunity to talk with women with whom I normally wouldn’t see and ask them about their babies. Though it seems rare that women come by themselves and their babies, or perhaps they meet people they know at the clinic. So I am the odd one with no one with whom to talk.

Every time we go, the head nurse works with us. I don’t know her name and she always forgets that Nadia is a girl, but she knows me and treats me kindly, converses with me, and offers advice and direction in a confusing place. And for that I am thankful.

Monday, 26 April

2010-07-04T09:54:00.003+02:00

Sunday
It is sunday and another day not knowing where to go to church. We have found a nice fellowship in the eveining that nourishes our souls. The worship is good. It is composed primarily by people from the US with a scattering of a few others and it is very close to our house so that we can easily walk there.

But we would like to plug into a local congregation. How do we do this? Where are the churches? It was normal in Manica to be invited by our coleagues to church. There the problem was being able to say 'no' when it was too much. It is much more western here and no-one has invited us to church. I even asked if I could go with someone and they gave me the feeling that this Sunday was not a good time without telling me directly. Last Sunday we went to a church that was in English and was mostly Africans from English speaking countries. Unfortunately it was at 11:00 which is not a good time for Nadia because she gets hungry. It was nice but not quite what we were looking for. We would also like to go to a service in Portuguese and with one of our colleagues so we can build relationships as representatives of MCC. So I guess we will have to start hunting. It is hard to hunt because there is no time to walk around and just look for churches. We can ask people but we often find the directions difficult to follow until we know Maputo better.

We go to Beira this week. That will give us an opportunity to participate in one of the churches we are familiar with. Maybe afterwards we will start the 'hunt' again? It seems such an aweful word to use. What is a church that we have to 'hunt' for one? Sometimes we talk about 'shopping' for a church. I do not like that word either.

2010-07-04T09:50:00.003+02:00

God, give me Love overflowing that

I can't help but Love Others...

...give me Wisdom to guide that Love

so that it truly Helps Others...

...give me Courage to show people that the

Wisdom and Love comes from

knowing You...

...that all will Praise Your Name!

Amen

2010-07-01T20:02:00.001+02:00

Maputo, here we come!
So we have not written a while on our blog. It has been a hassle to be able to write in the last few months with the business, travel and frankly, just poor internet. Apparently in the month of May a cable was severed in the Pacific Ocean which basically shut down all communication for about 2 weeks. The internet and phone systems have never quite been the same. Now we have moved to Maputo and we have finally bought ourselves broadband internet. Now after 3 years we have re-established communication with the outside role.

Our move to Maputo was a fun time. We ended up hitting an owl while driving at night. We stopped at a gas station and the attendant told us that we had hit and killed a great witch doctor. The rest of the trip was almost a nightmare. Our clutch went out before we reached our destination. We then spent the next day fixing it. Fortunately we found a really nice hotel not far from where we broke down. The next day people told us that it would take us 5 hours to get to Maputo. What they forgot to tell us was that their was road construction which we hit as it began to rain, turning the road into a flowing river of mud, soaking our things in the back and dowsing mud on them. The trip in fact took about 9 1/2 hours. We straggled into Maputo at 10. Fortunately the nice ladies at the Koinania guest house welcomed us in and gave us supper and a bed for the night. The next few weeks was the adventure of getting things together for our house, buying furniture and kitchen ware, a fridge and fixing the water system. The owner put in a shower heater for us. The only thing that seems to need to be done yet is to fix the leaks in the roof. I am not sure how or when that will happen.

Work has been good and we have just hired a nanny for Nadia so that Jenny can work as well. Overall, Maputo is a nice city with lots of flavor, places to eat, stores, museums, even movie theatres and malls. Unfortunately the nice mall has just been deemed off limits to American citizens because supposedly the President has declared that the owner is involved in the drug trade. Someone said that it is actually trade in Uranium but that they use drugs as a cover up. Who knows. What I do know is we are told to use cash if we go there so I think it is best we steer clear.

We can take walks here and the road to 'Costa del Sol' (the Sun Coast) along the beach front is beautiful past big fancy houses of national and international government people. There is plenty of art sold on the sidewalks and parks to stroll around in. The only downside is that we can't play in the grass.

In any case, we are feeling more settled and happy to be in one spot for a while.

2010-04-19T21:19:00.002+02:00

Returning
We just got back to Beira and I (Joel) was reminded of why I do not like to drag so much stuff around (suitcases, bags, computers, baby stuff). The humidity hit me like a ton of bricks as I left the airplane and by the time we had written filled in our entrance forms I was sweating profusely. When getting to the office I had to lug our bags and the car seat up the 3 flights of stairs to the MCC office. Needless to say by the end of that I was already for bed and a good cold shower. All that and we do not even have our suitcases yet which are stuck in London because of bad weather in Washington and a volcano in Iceland. Welcome back to Mozambique.

Needless to say it is good to be back and to feel the thrill of getting back to work even if the conditions are not ideal. It will get better once we are settled into our home in Chimoio and back to normal. I was reminded over the past few days of some of the wonderful things over travel from the US to Mozambique.

Wonderful meals that I do not have to pay a cent for and endless orange juice that is brought to your seat over night by the airline hostesses.
Smiley friendly airline hostesses that make you feel like you are the most wonderful person in the world.
Beautiful airports world class airports.
Chocolate cheesecake, chocolate and cheese for dinner.
The perfect climate and flowers in Johannesburg.
Seeing the hoards of wonderfully diverse people.
Watching the coastline of Mozambique from the sky.
Choice of movies at your seat on the trans-atlantic flight.
Wonderful food in Johannesburg (thanks to Lois)
Endless hours to spend with our daughter.

2010-04-16T23:43:00.002+02:00

Conservation Agriculture Potential
We are in the midst of planning a Conservation Agriculture training for personnel from each of the Christian Council of Mozambique provinces. It will happen in the end of May and is quite exciting because it shows some real possibility for smallholder subsistence farmers. To read a little bit more about Conservation Agriculture and what it can do, go to Zambia's Farming Revolution. This story really shows the potential it can have.

2010-03-25T17:10:00.002+02:00

Wikipedia Sand Dam Description
We have been speaking around the country in churches and schools and many people have asked many questions about sand dams and how they function. For those who do not have enough time to go to the Excellent Develepment or Sand Dam.org sites and read all the description listed there, I have put a link to the right to a Wikipedia description of the sand dams. It is much shorter and gives some good insight into the technology.

2010-03-17T21:49:00.004+02:00

Nadia's First MCC Position: Model

While we were in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Nadia had her first official MCC work. The women in the Resource center were designing a new robe for Newborn Kits and they needed to see how it fit on a baby. Here's a shot from the photo shoot.

2010-03-17T21:45:00.002+02:00

Bathrooms
Perhaps it is three years of living overseas and learning to live with the body’s ways of adjusting to a new culture or having an infant that brings me to this topic. But since being back in North America, I’ve grown to see bathrooms differently.

When I am in Mozambique, I do a 6 point check on public restrooms:
1. Is it clean?
2. Can I lock the door?
3. Does it have a toilet seat?
4. Does it have water (to flush and to wash my hands)?
5. Does it have toilet paper?
6. Does it have soap to wash my hands?
I’ve learned to carry some toilet paper and hand sanitizer to cover if the bathroom lacks those necessities, and for the most part, I’ve rarely had to forgo using the facilities. I’ve actually been pleasantly surprised by public restrooms’ cleanliness.

Here in North America, I don’t usually have to do the 6 point check most everything is present (though sometimes the automatic dispensers or switches on the tap do not always work). Now I have to add another check pointer: is there a place to change diapers? Sometimes there is and sometimes, there is a place in the men’s room to change diapers, so I don’t have to be the only one who can change Nadia’s diapers when we’re traveling.

I’ve also noticed something in our travels. Most people have a good shower head. Since moving to Chimoio last February, we have a shower and it is a good one. It is hooked up directly to a hot water heater and we can adjust the temperature mixing hot and cold water. Some people have what’s jokingly called a “widow maker” – an electric water heater that heats the water as it goes through the shower head. It can be switched on and off (depending on if you need hot water). The temperature is regulated by the volume of water flowing through. So if you want a hot shower, there won’t be a lot of water running through the shower head. Pressure for the shower isn’t always great either. Not in North America, most of the showers I’ve used have good pressure and I can mix the amount of hot and cold water to a temperature that I want.

(our bathroom in Chimoio)
We also have a bathtub in Mozambique and Joél’s mom has a beautiful claw foot tub. There is something really relaxing for me of laying in a tub of warm water, especially when I can add more warm water at will.

During our first year in Moz we traveled quite a bit to the sand dams communities. There people have to walk kilometers to fetch water and though it is super hot, they do not have the opportunity to bathe. I’ve noticed since moving to our house in Chimoio, I am more likely to dawdle in the luxury of perfect temperature water flowing over me or soaking in a bath. Sometimes it is as if I’m making up for the two years without running water. We had a MCC colleague who said that one of the crown achievements of Western civilization was running water.

I wonder how many people in the world have ever experienced being immersed in water. When we lived in Gondola without running water, it took several months for me to become accustomed to taking a bucket bath and feeling clean afterwards. For most Mozambicans, that is their reality. Those who have unlimited access to water, bathe frequently, considering the climate and amount of grime. After seeing how little water some Mozambicans have, it’s rare that I do not think about them as I shower, though I have to confess sometimes I push the thought aside and linger a little longer.

My years of living without running water has made me double check myself and my use of water. I still try to conserve water. I cringe when cleaning up after a meal, I have to throw out the water that someone did not finish so I can wash the glass. In South Africa, many showers had a knob that would shut off the water but retain the same temperature. That way, one could keep the temperature, but turn the water off to soap up, thus conserving water.

All this said, I’m very thankful for clean water and working bathrooms.

2010-03-06T20:10:00.004+02:00

Food Resource Bank
Many have heard of Canadian Food Grains Bank (CFGB)which was started by MCC in an effort to give rural farmers in Canada a way to contribute toward ending world hunger. Groups of farmers work together in "Growing Projects" where they designate a portion of their land to CFGB. When the harvest comes the production from these designated areas is deposited from the local elevator in the account at CFGB and these funds go toward projects around the world that combat hunger such as the Sand Dams and Food Security/Agriculture work that we are doing in Mozambique. People who do not have land can also contribute monetarily toward CFGB. CFGB since has grown and spun off on its own. Development organizations of many church denominations are members and have an account within the Canadian Food Grains Banks. Organizations such as MCC can access money from their account to fund projects to end hunger. When a farmer takes his grain to market he can designate the funds to go toward any of the 15 church/development organization of his choice such as Lutheran World Relief or Nazarene Compassionate Ministries. Check it out at http://www.foodgrainsbank.ca/. For the longest time farmers and others interested in ending world hunger in the USA did not have this option. However, that option now exists in the Food Resource Bank which functions basically the same way. For all of you looking for a way to practically put your Christian faith into action and feeding those who are hungry, check it out at http://www.foodsresourcebank.org/

2010-03-06T19:04:00.002+02:00

Sand Dams and Food Security Gaining Momentum
I have not done a good job of updating our blog in recent months. It has been a challenge focusing on our new expanding family and much of our work comprises of working on the computer during the day leaving minimal will and energy to do so in the evening. People ask us why we do not write more often, especially e-mails, but farmers who grow corn all day often do not like to work in the garden at night, accountants probably do not appreciate doing family accounting in the evening and MCC workers who spend time on the computer communicating would rather do something else.

In any case, I have found a little time in my busy schedule to add a little to our blog on the ever exciting Sand Dams and Food Security initiatives that are gaining momentum in Mozambique. Our country representative and engineer keep writing reports of the exciting things happening. It has finally rained significantly in Mozambique in February and many of the dams are filling up with water and sand. Several such that they can be raised to capture more rainwater. It seems that it is catching the attention of the government and visits from the government's public works (those in charge of public infrastructure) in Maputo have come to visit based on the good reports from the provincial offices. MCC also has sent key staff from the Christian Council of Mozambique to a training on conservation agriculture which seems to show potential for improving production and agriculture security alongside the sand dams. CCM staff seems excited and ready to train more of its staff in the technology and to implement it in the projects. What's more is that during the CCM annual meetings, they gave a presentation and many of the other provinces are really interested in what is happening. If you are interested in knowing more of the conservation agriculture see www.farming-gods-way.org.

The provincial government is also very interested and excited about the work. Recently Jon, our engineer, wrote, "CCM received attended meetings with the provincial departments of Public Works, Agriculture, and Emergency Management; the Mozambican Regional Water Administration for the Zambezi River Basin; and the World Food Program. The group in the meeting agreed to first make a visit to project sites, then meet again to figure out how they can work together to expand these kind of efforts, and do feasibility studies. There have been so many complaints from the population about drought and hunger, and the government is really glad to see someone working at it. They’re really wanting to turn around the situation of drought and hunger in these districts, and see this combined water and ag work as the way to go."

What does this mean for me, us, as a family. This means that we are moving to Maputo. MCC and CCM want to create core capacity within CCM National office to work at expanding and developing the vision of sand dams and food security within their network of provincial offices. A team will be formed, which I will be a part of, in order to work at this and connect up with potential donors, some of which are already lining up to support us with this initiative. This is all very exciting and scary at the same time. We will be starting over in a new place but with exciting new work. Jenny will have the opportunity to explore being involved in work with other initiatives within CCM (savings groups, contraband arms for art projects, learning tours and conflict resolution) and we will get to explore and experience the city of Maputo and its environs. Pray for us as we make this exciting yet scary and sometimes lonely change.