Quiet reflection

It's been a while since we last posted anything here. We've been busy traveling, hosting guests, planning for a Canadian Food Grains Bank learning tour. There hasn't been a lot of quiet and I know myself well enough that without quiet spaces, there's not much room for reflection.

The past year or so, our schedule has been chock full of travel. Our neighbors probably think we don't like our house, we're gone so much. It's the nature of our work--working directly with communties and organizations that have interest in bettering their community's lives and that we as MCC can come along side them and support them. Unfortunately in a country as vast as Mozambique, it means ALOT of travel. Almost every foreign worker I know travels to some degree to work with communities, whether doing pastor trainings, development work, HIV trainings, etc. And all the MCCers travel.

So, over the past year, Joel and I have gotten to know the road to Mandie well, now lately, the road to Tete, the road to Beira and the road to Sinhara (where my savings group is). The idea of traveling for work is exotic. But after my previous job where I had to travel, it quickly got old here because travel in Mozambique, no matter, how nice your vehicle is, the trip is always full of precautions--people walking along side of the road, goats wandering in the lane of traffic, potholes, slow drivers, large tractor trailers taking up too much of their side of the road. At any rate, whenever you arrive somewhere, you are Tired!

In October, we traveled to Cape Town, South Africa for a conference on Program, Monitoring, Evaluating and Reporting. First off, air travel is the way to go. We got there with more energy than we do after driving 3 hours to Beira! While we were there, though it was an intensive seminar, we got more rested than we do in a normal week at home in Gondola because it was quiet--no roosters, no loud music, no neighbors talking late into the night and then yelling at each other before 6 in the morning, space to take walks without being noticed.

One of the concepts that was discussed at the seminar was the idea of what the presenters called a "Home Week". It's a week where they as an organization are all at "home" in the office. No is traveling, and they intentionally sit down and reflect on their activities and what they are learning. From those conversations they set their direction for the future. It appeals to Joel and I who have a full schedule traveling to various ends of the nearby provinces. A week of quiet; a week of reflection; a week of intentional reading. We scheduled several reflection days for ourselves over the next six months. Perhaps, we'll have more blog posts out of those days!

It reminds me of Isaiah 30:15
This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israels says: "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength"

After the learning tour is over, we are determined to slow our life down. Not so many trips, not always on the go, and more time to just be. The culture here doesn't do well with always being busy. And frankly, neither do we. We need the quiet to find our strength and time to reflect. We need to slow down to take care of ourselves (because if we don't, no one here will) and we need the time for quiet to connect with God.

My body craves the quiet. If I go too long without quiet, I feel it in my shoulders and neck muscles. I can not think connectedly. I can not journal to refresh my soul. Ironically, here in Mozambique, the city is the quietest place, the country is the noisest. I am learning to carry ear plugs with me on my travels and the formerly dreaded white noise of a fan, drowns out interuptions when I want to sleep. Unfortuately, it is also hot here, so closing the windows to noises is not always feasible.

Thus our travels to South Africa rejuvinated our souls and bodies. It was as quiet as America. I have read that America is startling anticeptic-- meaning it's so clean and devoid of humanity's muck, in comparrison to a place like Africa where humanity reaches out to you at every sensory consciousness. Here you walk down the street and can not help but get your feet dirty--dust, sewage (some places), puddles (if the rainy season), smells surround you--fire for cooking, sweat, urine; tastes--if the smells are poignent, they make their way to your mouth, dust; sight of course--mothers walking with babies strapped to their backs, bicycles carrying charcoal, people talking to one another, women braiding each others' hair; and hearing--constant conversations, flip flops on the pavement, traffic, loud radios, goats bleating, dogs barking. It's as if the noise never stops, even when the people go to bed because that's when the lazy dogs decide it's time to howl.

I miss the quiet and sometimes I dream of going to Joel's parents' house in Nebraska and just sitting in the quiet, letting it wash over me, going to sleep in the quiet and waking up in the quiet. I told them that and they said I'm welcome any time, but if I'm there longer than 3 months, Joel'll have to work. When I get back to the States, I'm gonna take them up on it, but maybe only for a week, and then I'll make noise playing the piano!

* The picture is a photo of the town where the seminar was. It was on the coast and there were mountains on one side, the coast on the otherside. It was lovely.