Settling In

Since Julie and Michael aren’t here now, I get to stay in the main missionary house. It’s nice for a few reasons, but the main being that it has AC! Well actually more important than AC it has doors that go all the way to the floor. Having AC means I can keep the windows closed and no mice can come in through my screens and having good doors means no mice can sneak in under them! Oh and the bed has a bug tent, it’s nice to zipper in and out, rather than having to tuck in every time you get up. Mice were my biggest lose of sleep last year, so I’m hoping I will rest well in this room…YEAH!

This room is also attached to the missionary kitchen, which is nice because the room I’m in is small and filled with Julie, Adriano and Michael’s things… so the kitchen allows me some much needed legroom. With 3 suitcases full of stuff… I’m in need of floor space to see just what I’ve got.

I slept so well the last two night. The room is nice and quiet in the morning. I woke up Friday morning and rush out of my room to see the kids, but it’s quiet. There are no kids, or at least none that I didn’t see last night. I met Nigel, an Australian missionary, who is staying in the room I used last year. I’ve heard about him for a while, so it’s nice to put a face and personality to the name.

I’ve decided not to do Christmas tomorrow, it would be way to rushed. We will wait one week. So instead I get started cleaning the house. I noticed the freezer has a lot of ice built up, so I decide to clean it out. Nigel suggests that I hang the fridge out the door, so the water can just drain to the front porch. There are some neighborhood kids watching me and they inch closer as I scoop out ice. Some even bring me cups asking for it, so I start handing out chunks and shavings of ice… I figure it can’t be any worse than what they drink from a well.

The kids start coming home from school, they are much more shy than I imagined. Pedro went running past me like a blur into his room. I wasn’t even sure if it was him, so I started saying his name and eventually he came out of his room. Juma P was similar. When he came home from school, I could tell he was exhausted. I said hello to him and he just kept walking. Nigel was telling me earlier how much they have all been talking about me coming and how excited they are. I know they are happy to see me, but it’s like they don’t know how to react or like they need to keep calm. It’s interesting to watch and to try and peel away at the shy exterior.

By Friday night things are back to normal. Sure things have changed, but it’s like I’ve never left. It’s a little weird being in a different room. I think mainly because I used to sit in my doorway which was on the main porch and so I would spend lots of time with the kids that way. Even though the boys have moved next to the missionary house, they feel far because there is no porch to hang out on.

After I finished cleaning yesterday I started sorting through some of the gifts I brought. I started making a list of the things I needed for Christmas and odds and ends I needed to finish cleaning. Then Nunu, Pedro and I went into town. I think the kids like to be singled out and my list of things to buy is long, so we could use the extra hands. As soon as I ask Pedro, his head drops and a smile breaks out… Pedro more than any other child loves to be asked to come along.

It’s so good to be back. Even though the kids have changed some they are still the same. Overall the biggest change is the amount of English the kids speak. Those who spoke some last year can make full sentences and other kids who spoke none, now know a few words. I notice the biggest change in both Juma’s. The little one has grown a little but he has lost some of his baby fat, so he looks more like a little man. The big Juma has gotten a little taller… funny thing is that the dog Black has changed the most. It’s just so good to be back. It’s so good to look out and see these faces. I’ll do lots of staring for the next few days, just taking it all in.

The Bathroom...To Go or Not To Go?

In this blog I try to talk about what I see and what I experience. I try not to only talk about good or only bad, rather I just try to describe how I see things. Sometimes it's hard as I want to write about things I normally wouldn't really talk about... this blog is one of those. I've deleted and rewritten parts of this blog so many times unsure of just what to do, but in the end I just write about what I see and what I experience. Spending 2 days on a bus, I experienced many different bathrooms, or lack of bathrooms... if this makes you uncomfortable then maybe just skim this blog. 

As the bus pulls out, I want to pinch myself. Part of me is in disbelief that I’m heading back to Pemba. I will arrive exactly 1 year later than my first arrival… that makes me smile. My excitement is quickly shut down, when we drive for 10 minutes then stop for 30 minutes to get gas. Back on the road and we stop again 10 minutes later and I’m not even sure why. I think we stop 3 times total before really going. I watch as we pass Iris Ministries in Zimpeto, where Nunu grew up.

I lean forward on the seat in front of me, pull my curtain enough that the sun isn’t beating down on my arm and I fall asleep. I’m a light sleeper, but get me in a moving vehicle and I can sleep. Growing up my extended family lived about 10 hours away. I learned at a young age if you sleep when traveling two things happen… 1. the trip feels shorter 2. you go to the bathroom less!

My view inside the bus.

We make a few stops and within 6 hours our bus is completely full. The roads are nice and we stop a reasonable amount of times to use the bathroom. Each time we stop a parade of people approach the bus with boxes of bread, bananas, nuts, water, pop and even toilet paper. They all fight to make a sale and pass the merchandise through the window.

What I always imagine a hut would look like.

I pass up the first bathroom stop as we just pull up along the side of the road. I don’t need to go and I want to see how things work. Do the men go one way and the women go the other. Do people go right next to the road or work their way back in a bit. It’s hard to see much. I only can see if the people cross the road and I only see the men cross the road. They keep their backs to the bus, but I try not to look long… just quick glances to try to get a better idea of what is normal.

A nice stretch of road along the ocean.

The ocean.

We stop in a town and I decide it’s probably a good place to go. I don’t see any bushes or grass, so I’m hoping there is a bathroom. I grab my toilet paper and hand-sanitizer and ask Nunu to help me find a bathroom. We find a kid selling Coke who is eager to lead us. Once again this bathroom offers privacy so I’m thankful. The floor is covered in water. I hike my dress up and tuck it in along the top so it doesn’t drag.  There is no seat cover… but I can’t tell you how great it is to have 4 walls and a door… with a lock!

I wash my hands but still use my sanitizer. As I exit I find Nunu paying for the use of the bathroom… it’s about $0.18 each. I guess that is the going rate for 4 walls. On our way back to the bus we buy 2 cokes from the kid who showed us the bathroom.

Back on the bus, Nunu and I make peanut butter sandwiches and eat them along with some of the other snacks I packed. The ride isn’t bad. There are 2 drivers who switch on and off. I notice they both drive the same… with one foot on the gas and one hand on the horn. If a person or animal comes within 10 feet of the road they both lay on the horn. As they pass they honk the horn. They honk to say hello to people they know.

Another “she-she” (I think it means urinate) stop in the grass. I still don’t think I’m ready for this, I can wait another 3 hours. When Nunu comes back, he tells me that he saw a snake. Not only did he see it, he picked it up and threw it. Yeah… I’m thinking my eyes will be yellow before I “she-she” outside!

A few hours pass and it starts raining. I keep my window cracked… it’s probably the only window open on the bus. My tolerence for heat is much lower than anyone else on this bus. Some even start putting on long sleeves or covering up their children.

There are at least 6 woman who have babies on their laps. The lady in front of me has an 8 year old boy and a 5 year old girl. They have 2 seats between the three of them. The little girl lays across her mom, brother and woman next to them. Did I mention that woman next to them also has a baby. You don’t have to be in Africa long to get the whole “It takes a village” concept.

Two rows in front of me is a mom with 4 kids! A 13 year old boy, 8 year old boy, 4 year old girl and a 1.5 year old. The 5 of them share 3 seats. Seeing families share seats puts me in my place, I dare not even think a bad thought about my seat.

By the time we stop for dinner, it’s pouring rain. The place we stop has showers, rooms for sleeping, a place to buy chicken with rice, a counter to buy drink and some bathroom. We are stopping for 30 minutes. Finding the bathrooms is confusing, by the time I make it to one I’m soaked. The first door I open is in use… good thing it’s raining so hard. My glasses are covered in raindrops and all I see is the outline of a person. The second door is locked. I cram myself into the doorjamb in an effort to not get any wetter. The door opens, a man comes out and I rush in.

Hum? This is interesting. The “toilet” is like a huge cement block. It sits over 3’ high (a standard toilet is between 15” & 18” high) and is about 4’ wide with a depth greater than 2’. I’m suddenly really happy I walked in on the person in the other bathroom. Had I not seen them squatting over this massive block, I probably would have laid out a roll of toilet paper in an effort to sit.

Back on the bus, I make a peanut butter sandwhich and fall back to sleep. The quality of the road has diminished and I’m awakened by repeated side to side motions of the bus. It feels more like we are on a boat in rough waters… my body is pushed from side to side. I try looking out and it’s pitch black with the exception of the bus headlights. I try watching the road, but it’s hard from the back of the bus. It’s downright scary. I keep telling myself the bus drivers make the trip up to Pemba 3 times a week, they know these roads and they know what the bus can handle. I put my head back down, I can’t watch anymore.

I’m in a foggy haze from about 8m – 1am… falling in and out of sleep. Even though the roads are bad, it’s only for 30 minute stretches at a time. We are at our “overnight” stop. It’s 1am. The streets are lines with clusters of people. They are sitting on porches, listening to music and drinking. Some are dancing. Nunu reaches past me and pulls my curtain… he tells me it’s not safe.

Some people get off the bus and so we are able to stretch out a bit. With my feet on the floor, I lay my head down on the seat next to me. I wake up because some body part is asleep… but I’m to tired to even know which part it is. At 3:00 the bus captain is back on telling us we will leave in 10 minutes.

We stop at 6am for “she-she.” I stay put, even though we aren’t stopping again until Nampula and I don’t know how far that is.

I can tell we are getting close to Nampula, because the woman are fixing their hair. I haven’t used the bathroom in over 15 hours… I’ve only had to go for the last hour or so… my sleeping technique works wonders! With a deep breath and a pocket full of toilet paper and hand-sanitizer… I venture off the bus.

It’s then I realize that the women and children set up shop at the back of the bus. I follow. When you don’t have 4 walls, a long dress suddenly becomes a source of privacy. This is so strange to me, but it’s so normal to every other person on this bus. I make my best effort to not look freaked out… my guess is I failed, I probably had a deer in headlights look on my face.

Thirty minutes later we make the stop in Nampula. I spot a bathroom… well 4 walls and a hole in the ground. So funny that this makes me happy and I figure it’s here, I better use it.

Home for 2 days =)

My back row window seat.

My swollen feet & ankles!

The bus is delayed for 1 hour because some ones bag is missing. A report is filed and police show up. I’m instantly nervous =) One of the police asks me how my day is and where I’m going. I answer short and simple.  He tells me how beautiful Pemba is and that I will like it. He is just making small talk, but I’d rather this conversation be over so I just smile and say I’m excited to go.

We also have to wait at the bus station (big area with a dirt covered ground) for one hour to see if anyone is waiting to go to Pemba. We are back on the road around 4:00. The bus only has about 15 or 20 people on it. So we get to stretch out. I sleep.

I wake up just before 10 and ask Nunu where we are and he says that we are about 10 minutes away. Sometimes 10 minutes means 50 minutes, so I’m not sure what to think, but then I look out the window and I see the airport in Pemba! We live just down the road, we really are 10 minutes away. I can’t even believe it!

We get all my bags and get a taxi and head to the Center!!!

It’s almost 10:30 when we arrive. Some of the older boys are still awake… I’m greated with big hugs from Latino, Joao, Izack and a few of the leaders. It’s all so surreal.

I’m so excited, I forget how tired I am. After about 45 minutes my thoughts no longer make any sense. I figure it’s time to go to bed. I go to my room and discover that the bathroom door knob is broken and it has some sharp edges which make it hard to grasp. I’m off in search of duct tape. I ask Sumate if he knows where any is and he says he doesn’t know what it is. So I start explaining it’s grey, strong and I show with my fingers that it looks like mesh. He doesn’t know. I say do you have any kind of tape… even the kind you wrap presents with. Sumate says… aaaah tape, when you said presents I knew what you meant. 

Here I was trying to explain the duct part and he didn’t even know what I meant by tape! Welcome back to Pemba… it’s so good to be here.

The 12 Hour Wait.

Tuesday night when Nunu and I arrived at the bus at 5, it was immediately obvious to me that they weighed past 5:00. I have to say this was one of the best experiences of mine in Mozambique. There was a sign stating how much each extra kg cost and there was a scale. It was cut and dry… there was no bargaining and I didn’t wonder if I was paying the same as the next guy.

At about 7:00 a man started unloading 20 – 30 heavy boxes. I asked Nunu if he would be allowed to take all this stuff and Nunu said, “Yeah, if he can pay.”  I said, “What about the people who show up tomorrow morning with luggage?” Nunu told me that they don’t care whose luggage fills up the bus, so long as it’s full, so it’s first come first serve. Glad we went at 5:00!

It was odd just sitting at the bus place… I’m not even sure what to call it. It’s a building with space for 2 buses and 2 cars. It’s surrounded by a pink cement fence that stands taller than the buses. The indoor space is about 12’ x 20’ with a table at one end and a bright green jail cell at the other end. The cell is used for locking luggage if people wish to drop it off. The doors in are 2 huge sliding glass doors, probably 8 or 9 feet across.

When we arrive a bunch of men are working on one of the busses. By the end, I decide they are changing the oil. The don’t have the bus lifted up on much, rather they drove it up a wooden ramp onto a cinder block with 2 boards sitting on top.

At around 11pm they start loading the bus and I watch as my 3 bags are carried on. At around midnight there are about 20 people waiting for the bus. People start settling in for the night. Cardboard boxes & bamboo mats serves as beds. I wonder what people will do with the mats when they get on the bus as they are about 8’ x 6’.

A man left a piece of cardboard on the ground and about 20 minutes later… it’s looking like a lush feather bed. Maybe it’s just the thought of being able to stretch out… I don’t know but I tell myself if they guy doesn’t come in the next 10 minutes… that cardboard is mine!

Just then one of the workers offers Nunu and I a bamboo mat. Part of me isn’t sure if I should sleep on the same mat at Nunu, but I look around and see strangers sleeping side-by-side. I’m embarrassed to even ask for another mat, so I just lay down.

Our mat is on the concrete, just inside the glass door right next to our 2 backpacks and my purse. The mat doesn’t offer much comfort, I guess the point is that it’s cleaner than the floor. A worker closes the sliding glass door, probably so we don’t get cold. I crack it open as the night air feels so refreshing. People come and go out of the room we are in and I am unable to sleep. Every time I hear a noise my body jolts awake.

It probably has something to do with the fact that all of my valuables are in the backpacks and my purse. I look over and Nunu is dead asleep with my purse strap wrapped around his wrist. Around 2 I finally fall asleep, but not for long. I wake up to dogs barking. I just listen to them. It’s not friendly barking and growling and it sounds like there are many dogs. Since most Mozambicans think dogs have venom in their teeth, they don’t like dogs. It makes sense that stray dogs would come out at night. I listen and imagine 2 packs fighting over some good scraps. Part of me wants to get up and go see… I think of what a good view I would have if I could sit on top of the fence. I fall back asleep. But not for long the dog fighting is pretty consistent throughout the night.

I’ve never slept on concert before. It’s obvious that it’s not comfortable, but I found it odd that when I slept on my back my feet would fall asleep. I would turn to my side for a while and eventually my hips would hurt or my arm would fall asleep. I don’t say these things to complain; all in all it was nice to be able to stretch out for a few hours. It also crazy to think of all the people who have no choice but to sleep on the hard ground each night. I’m so blessed.

I wake up around 4:30 and people are slowly rising and brushing teeth and going to the bathroom. The bathroom here is very typical for Mozambique. It’s a toilet you squat over. Not the cleanest bathroom ever, just thankful for privacy.

They open the gates and people flood in. Only some have luggage, most just a small bag for the overhead compartment. I watch as people find out that all of their luggage won’t fit on the bus. I’m not actually sure what is going on, I just watch… but I think some bags will be stored in the cell until the next bus leaves in 2 days. I sure am glad we got here early.

At a few minutes past 5 people are allowed on the bus. The crowd rushes the door, there is nothing orderly about trying to get to the door. Nunu squeezes in the side and tries to give both of our tickets but the man says only one ticket at a time. Luckly the man took my ticket and so I am about the 5^th person on. Another man shows me to my seat in the last row and I put my bag up top.

I try opening my window and it won’t open. The only reason I picked this seat is because it’s the only window on every bus that for sure how the ability to open, because most of the windows span over 3 rows, so the person in the middle is at the mercy of the row in front of them. Nunu tries, nothing. We call one of the workers over and he struggles with it but finally gets it open!

Most of the bus rows are 5 across, I think total there are 63 seats… maybe 4 are empty. After 12 hours at the bus station, I’m happy to be on the bus and in my seat with a window that opens and a curtain for shade. I try to settle in for the long ride ahead.

Peace Out Maputo!

My brain is officially overloaded on Ponta. So I’ll give you the short version.

Filipe canceled on our Sunday meeting. Then said he could come Monday. We met with him on Monday and once again plans changed. He now thinks we should build a block house (to add value to the land). He walked us through a cost break down of a stick house (as they should be cheaper) and a block house. When we were done I noticed that the cost were very similar (around 38,000 MZN) at which point he added 12,000 MZN to the block house for 2 doors.

Once again this is why it’s so hard. 12,000 MZN for 2 doors, that’s almost $250 USD. With my limited knowledge of things, this sounds crazy to me the second he says it. But we’ve kept him much longer than we planned, so I leave it alone for now.

But it makes my mind wander. What is he trying to do? Is he trying to pad things and make a few bucks? Does he really think this is what stuff cost? AAAHHHH

Where is Home Depot when I need it?!

The good news is, that Nunu and I have done all that we can here in Maputo. If we decide to go ahead with Felipe we can make arrangements over the phone. But first I plan to call a local builder (he is from South Africa, but builds vacation homes in Ponta) who has offered to donate a well and see if he can donate materials or transportation instead.

With this being said, Nunu and I are off to the bus to get our new tickets for Wednesday! Wooot Hooot!!!

I’m completely exhausted. I feel like everyday I think to myself, “I don’t think I could possibly walk any further than I did today” but then the next day I do.

Yesterday, I went to go to the ATM to get money to pay for my bus ticket. I usually withdrawal the maximum amount when I go, that way I avoid the fees of multiple transactions. I usually go to Standard bank, because they allow me to withdraw 9000 MZN ($326 USD). After walking for about 20 minutes to find a bank, I decide to try another bank. I type in that I want 9000 and it starts to process and then it tells me that my amount exceeds the maximum daily withdrawal amount. I decide I would rather keep walking in search of a Standard bank, so I cancel out the transaction.

We walk another 20 minutes and I make the withdrawal, but when I get my receipt I notice that my remaining balance is lower than I had expected. A few hours later when I get home, I get online to look at what my account balance is and discover that my withdrawal has posted twice.

I email my bank and they respond saying that the problem should correct itself over night and what I’m looking at aren’t hard post. Today, I wake bright and early to check my account. The amount is still posting, not only is it posting but it’s twice of all the fees… so I’m out about $350… awesome.

I call the bank, it’s going to take 10 days to process my request. The thing that stinks is that I don’t actually have anything to prove that I didn’t receive the cash other than the fact that the bank doesn’t actually allow a withdrawal of this amount.

I’m not immediately in need of this money, but I do need it before I come home. So it’s just one more thing that I add to my list of things to do… sigh.

The stress of the money doesn’t last long… my bus leaves for Pemba at 5:00am tomorrow!! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to finally see my boys!!!

At noon, I still hadn’t packed. We are each allowed 10 kg on the bus, so the plan is to fill Nunu and my backpacks with all valuable heavy items. I thought that we needed to go to the bus at about 9:30pm to get our luggage weighed. Around 2:30, I find out that we need to leave for the bus at 4:30!

When we spoke to the man at the bus he said they weigh luggage from 7:00 – 5:00… since our bus leaves at 5am, I just figured that was the 5 he was referring to… nope 5pm! I pull all of my bags out of my room and frantically start reorganizing. I still needed to send emails, use the internet, charge some electronics and pack in an organized manor. I guess I’ll just have to settle for getting all of my things in a bag and taking a quick shower.

So here I go off to the bus, 12 hours before it leaves… a new adventure. I couldn’t be more excited!

Prayer Request:

- Since there is a delay in my blog, just wanted you to know I made it to Pemba safe =)

- Please be praying that the bank put my money back in my account.

- The I would make the most of my time with the boys!

- As always health... my throat was doing some funny things yesterday, but today it's feeling better. 

Puddle Jumping =)

Sometimes I just laugh… it keeps getting hotter. Yesterday Felipe was supposed to meet us. Nunu and I were sitting on the porch waiting for him and even there I was just dripping sweat. Nunu called Felipe to find out where he was… in Ponta! He forgot he had a meeting today.

This leaves us in a pickle.

We really wanted to go to Pemba on Monday morning. Now I don’t know if we can do this. He says he can come tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to do now. 

Nunu and I talk about some of the questions that I have for Felipe and Nunu calls him back to discuss. They talk about what we need to build and the cost. We are talking about building a fence around the property and possibly a small 1 or 2 room house.

Felipe gives Nunu some numbers of what he thinks things will cost, including transportation. The prices sound high to me, but who knows. This is where things get so hard. I know the cost of things in the states, I know how to price things. Things in America have price tags, but when you go to the market here you have to ask how much everything costs and hope the price is the same when you go back again.

Nothing is easy in Mozambique. Nothing.

It’s so hot. My brain is so fried from trying to figure all this stuff out.

I ask Nunu what we can do that involves air-conditioning. We decide to go to a movie, but it doesn’t start for 2 hours. So we go to the Nautilus, my favorite restaurant in town… it’s only my favorite because it’s food is priced well, it has air-conditioning and the cheapest bottle of cold coke in town =)

There isn’t central air here, or at least I haven’t seen any. Most places either have wall units (much different from a window unit), that sit high on a wall. Or these 7 foot towers that blow AC into a room like a fan. When we walk in, I wonder around a bit trying to find the coldest spot… I find a seat that I can feel the cold air blowing. I sit. I drink my coke. I’m no longer sweating. I’m happy.

About 30 minutes before the movie starts, I look outside. I notice the branches on the trees shaking and the leaves all being pushed sideways from the wind. It’s also getting dark out, but I can’t tell if it’s a storm or just the sun setting. I say to Nunu that we should probably pay and go, but within 2 minutes the rain start.

The Nautilus is a corner building with big picture windows. It’s like watching this storm on a huge wrap around flat screen. The rain is blowing side ways. Once again calling this rain doesn’t seem right. It’s pouring. People are running around outside trying to get where they are going. Umbrellas are useless. Water is coming in under the door.

Nunu tells me that we can’t go to the movie, because when it rains like this the scapas stop running and he needs to get home before that happens. I think for a second. We could get a taxi, but it’s raining so hard we would be soaked before we even made it to the curb. I decide to save the money and enjoy the cool rain. We ask for a plastic bag and I tightly wrap all of our valuables (camera, phones, wallets, passports & money) and stick them in my purse. One thing I will never understand is that if money is wet, no one will accept it.

As suspected, after being outside for about 10 seconds, I’m completely soaked to the bone. But it feels SOOOOOOO good. The air has cooled off like 20 degrees. The wet wind feels so good.

I’m smiling so big, my cheeks hurt. I feel like a little kid. It hasn’t even been raining for 5 minutes and the street are full of water. I’m tempted to start jumping in puddles, but who knows what is in those puddles… so for now I resist.

I feel like I’m in a movie. No one is out here. I want to stand in the middle of the street with my arms open wide taking it all in… so I do it. The rain lets up as we get about 3 blocks from the Casa and so I take my camera out.

I can only resist a puddle for so long!

Never in my life have I appreciated a rainstorm so much. It’s not exactly swimming in the ocean, but it served the same purpose… it was the most refreshing rainstorm. Grateful doesn’t even describe how I feel… I feel blessed by this storm.

One really quick side note… Michael met a man at church today whose ministry (S#*t Business International, no joke this is his organization name) is going around explaining to people about fecal contamination. He shows them how to properly dig a latrine and explains how fecal matter can be tracked around and how it can easily it can get into the water. Interesting. I’m glad someone feels called to teach about that. 

It's HOT, HOT, HOT!!!

It’s slowly been getting hotter and hotter here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in Africa… I expect to sweat. But wowzers it’s HOT! Nunu and I have our daily meetings out on the front porch. As far as I’m concerned it’s the best spot in the house. I don’t think the sun ever hits it and it usually has a nice cool breeze.

My room also isn’t bad, at least nothing that a cool rag and fan can’t fix. But lately it’s been so hot that I’ve opted to sleep with bug spray and skip the mosquito net. It sounds crazy but the net makes it hotter… I can handle hot, but hotter I just can’t do =)

The funny thing is the ladies who run this place. They are about 65 and 80, they are from Maine. However, they have been here for over 60 years combined and they love the heat. In fact they wear multiple layer and even sweaters if it’s in the 80’s! They see nothing wrong with baking bread in the house when it’s 90 degrees outside. When we sit down for dinner you can feel the heat coming out of the kitchen. For three days, dinner was SO hot… that I would be dripping with sweat before we even got to dessert. But the ladies are sitting there happy as can be loving the hot air… sometimes they even ask if we can turn the fan down.

When I found out yesterday that Filipe wasn’t coming, I asked Nunu if he could take me to the beach. Well on Friday I was getting ready and I mentioned to Michael that we were going to the beach and he asked if I planned to swim. With a confused look on my face, I said “uh yeah?” He was like, “have you ever been to the beach here? It’s pretty dirty. I even heard that they dump their sewage off shore.” WHAT?!

When I took the barge home from Catembe I looked down and thought to myself this water is disgusting! But never had I imagined sewage. I called Nunu and asked if this was true, he told me he hadn’t been to the beach in 6 or 8 years and he didn’t know. We asked a few people in the house and they said they had heard that rumor as well.

I’m so grossed out. I’m so sad. Every beach I have been to has been so incredibly beautiful. How could they let this happen here?! Corruption is the answer I get.

I take my suit off, but I’m curious and the beach usually has a cool breeze, so we still go.

As we take the schapa up the coast, there aren’t many people. I’m surprised at all the little vendors lined up along the beach. One after another roasting chicken, selling pop, beer, sausages, candy, and so on. I ask Nunu, “Who are all these vendors selling to?” I get my answer an hour or 2 later. It seems this is the place to be after school or work. It’s like a tail gate party but switch the stadium for a beach. The main event is socializing and cooling off. It is Friday, I guess it all makes sense (I often forget what day of the week it is).

We find a shady spot under a tree. I lay my towel down and get comfortable. Let the people watching begin! Well first I start by checking out the water. I don’t get close though maybe like 20 or 30 feet away. This is a strange form of torture. I’m so hot, it’s in the 90’s and that is without the heat index. I’m afraid if I get to close to the water, I will put my foot in. If it’s cool who knows… so I keep my distance.

So the water. Definitely NOT a Gatorade beach (see a few blogs back if you don’t know what I mean). It’s the ocean, it’s supposed to be a beautiful shade of blue, but it makes me think more of a lake.

I watch people play and have fun. I wonder if they have heard about the rumor. To be fair, none of what I’ve heard is fact. It’s just local speculation and rumor, but why is this water so dark when just 3 hours south it’s a crystal clear blue?

I’m not even sure what else to say. It’s just a very sad situation. Not just the ocean, but all this talk of sewage has me thinking about sanitation… everything from littering  to washing your hands after using the bathroom. While a lot of people get these things… it’s the ones who don’t get it that I worry about. I don’t even know what else to say. I don’t want to be disrespectful, so it’s probably best to quit while I’m ahead.

Prayer:

- Forget me… pray against corruption.

- Pray for this countries leadership.

- Pray that people would understand the importance of sanitation.

- Pray that if the dumping reports are true, that someone would put a stop to it.

A Realtime Blog

I'm writing this in realtime, so it's out of order from my other posts. Most of my blogs I post days (maybe weeks) after writing. But I wanted to write today to let you all know that I'm leaving for Pemba tomorrow (Wednesday) morning! I'm not sure when I will get back online as I'm hoping to celebrate Christmas with the kids on Saturday. If you could be praying that I am able to get things together in one day! I still have to sort and attempt to wrap the gifts or package them somehow. And I have to figure all the food things out or at least find someone to do this. 


I'm also trying to get all my blogs caught up as I know I will have much to write about when I arrive in Pemba. I'm going to try to schedule some blogs to post over the next few days.


YEAH I'M GOING TO PEMBA!!!!!


I still have a bit to do today, but I woke up at 6am because I was so excited!!


Prayer Requests:
- Safe travel. I'm going to be on a bus for at least 2 days. Not just for Nunu and I but also all of the luggage I have. 
- That we arrive on Thursday night, allowing me Friday to plan for Christmas.
- That we are able to sleep, so we arrive rested in Pemba. 
- Health! I've been so careful this week not to eat things that might make me sick. Being sick on this bus would not be fun...

Movie Night =)

Before I jump back into all the things I’m working on, I wanted to tell you about my first movie experience in Maputo. When I arrived in Maputo I was asking Nunu about the theartre, so we walked past it one day and I remember that Nunu was surprised that the cost had gone up from 100 MZN (abt $3.70) to 150 MZN (abt $5.50).

Anyways, since I didn’t feel good much of last week, I just wanted to get out of the house. We had no clue what movie was playing but on Saturday night we headed out. The theater only play 2 movies, one at 6:00 & 8:30 and the other at 3:00. I was happy when we arrived to find that the 6:00 was The Help. The 3:00 was Cowboys & Aliens. We purchased our tickets and went in. A guard looked at our printed tickets and we headed down stairs. I wanted popcorn (I’m going for the full effect), so we went and purchased a bag (see picture). I think it cost 60 MZN ($2.20).

Love me some popcorn!

We go in and the place is pretty big. I’m not sure how many it would hold (maybe 150/200 people) but probably similar to the Tivoli in Downers Grove. The movie starts on time, with no previews. It is played in English with Portuguese subtitles.

The place is air conditioned but to the point where about 30 minutes in you start to feel a little warm. The seats are comfortable, not the moveable highbacks like we have now a days but soft and nicer than I would have imagined. I would guess there are about 30 people watching with us.

About half way though the screen does something strange and goes blank. But then a message comes up saying there will be a 7 minute intermission. Go figure the one time I go to a movie with an intermission I don’t need to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later a preview is played for Cowboys & Aliens (the other movie they show at 3:00) and then our movie starts right back up.

Enough fun, back to work! Speaking of work, I actually feel more helpful than I had imagine a week ago. It’s worked out well that Nunu does the running around, we meet each day talking about what he has done and discussing what we should do next. I communicate with Julia what’s going on. Would I rather be in Pemba… uh yeah! But I feel like I’m helping here and getting some really important things accomplished for Projecto Sonho.

The Dire. Monday morning Nunu took our letter with documents (we think we are missing one) to the Ministry of Justice (MOJ), just as he was told last week. When he got there they told him to go to Immigration. On Tuesday he went to Immigration and they told him he needed to go to the Department of Labor. On Wednesday he went to the Department of Labor and they told him he needs to go to Immigration?!

He calls the man at the other orphanage in Pemba and reads him our letter. Apparently we had the word “worker” in rather than “volunteer” and that needed to be fixed. Then we need to reprint and turn it in again.

The documents we have been printing to turn in to these official offices, we have to print in color. If you don’t, you have to use your organization official stamp (logo stamp)… Projecto Sonhos is up in Pemba. Each time we print a color sheet, it cost 47 MZN about $1.80!

So today Nunu takes our new document void of the word “workers” back to Immigration and they accepted it! They said to check back in 5 days (I highly doubt it will be done the, but who knows). Michael is needing to renew his visa, so if Nunu and I leave, he offered to go check on it.

Two down, one to go!!

The Land Permit. Tuesday Nunu takes the letter to the Department of Agriculture to turn it in. A woman reviews the letter and tells him that it needs to be addressed to the Governor, not the Department of Agriculture. She also tells Nunu that the letter could be turned in as is, but that she would strongly suggest that we make our letter much more convincing. I email Julia with all of this information and she rewrites the letter and  suggests we call Pastor Felipe again to get his take on the situation. She also suggests that we ask him to come up from Ponta to turn the letter in and gives us a budget to work with as far as building on the land goes. 

Felipe has been working with Projecto Sonho to acquire the land since the beginning. He also lives in Ponta and knows how things work.

Today Nunu calls Pastor Felipe and fills him in on everything. He says he will not come to Maputo to turn the letter in, he says the letter will do no good. He explains to Nunu that if we turn the letter in they will send an official out to look at the land. Since we have yet to build the only way the official will approve things is if we bribe him. He says it is better to build a fence around the property and a well on the property. Then write a letter explaining our plans for the future. He thinks this will get us the extension.

We try asking him what the fence and well will cost, but he says he is unsure. We had offered to cover Felipe’s travel to Maputo to turn the document in and money for his time. Well now he wants to come and go see how much these things will cost. It’s things like this that are really hard for me.  I don’t know if these things are in our budget or if they will cost 10x our budget and I don’t want to waste Felipe’s time or our money if it is way out of our budget. It’s hard for me to make decisions when I feel so out of the loop and when it’s not my money at stake. I hate the thought of wasting ministry money.

By the time I talk to Julia tonight, it’s too late too get Felipe here tomorrow (Friday) to go looking at things. He says he will come up Saturday to look at materials and if they are in our budget, I will pay for them an keep the receipts.

Dang. I was hoping to take the bus up to Pemba on Saturday! The next bus leaves on Monday, so hopefully we can get things ironed out by then.

The Dire, Despacho & Land Permit...

Yesterday, well rather last night… I didn’t feel so good again. New symptoms. I looked up the side effects of Cipro and I think it was making me better and worse at the same time. So I stopped taking it after 2 days, hoping that was long enough to kill whatever bug I had. Which I think it did because today I feel so much better. I still get random cramping, but unlike contractions, the cramps just keep getting further and further apart.

Well so all week, Nunu and I have been working on these three things. Prepare for your mind to be blown at how complicated some of these things are. Also, remember I’m not talking about America, things are done so differently here. I have a rule of thumb that if it makes sense to me (meaning the process is easy and comparable to what I would thinkg), something must be wrong. Keep in mind that public offices are only open to 3:00 pm and some only keep their doors open to 1:00pm. None of these offices are close to each other and so Nunu is taking schapas (mini-van buses) all around town trying to get these things accomplished.

1. The Dire. Julia told us that we need to register at the Foreign Business office. We’ve been told by a larger orphanage in Pemba that even though Projecto Sonho is a national ONG (like NGO in States), because we want foreigner to come over we to get their permission. Or at least this is how the other orphanage has gone about things. So Monday morning this is where Nunu starts. They are confused and are unsure why he is at the Foreign Business Office if the organization is national. They are so confused that Nunu is left wondering if he is asking on behalf of Projecto Sonho (Mozambique) or The Dream Project (USA).

Tuesday he goes back to explain again that it’s for Projecto Sonho (PS) and so they tell him he needs to go the Ministry of Justice (MOJ). At the MOJ they tell him to write a letter explaining what PS needs and bring it back with all of PS’s official paperwork.

Nunu has some of the documents with him, but the rest are up in Pemba. We are already waiting on another scanned item, so we call to add these items to the list. Sound easy, right? Not so much.

Most of our workers in Pemba don’t have much computer knowledge.  Antonio can type documents and print them, but I’m not sure how much he knows about he internet (another thing I hope to help our workers in Pemba with). Also, he has to go into town to use the net and pay for it and for each item you need scanned.

Yesterday Julia also told us to try to get in touch with the guy from the other orphanage to find why we need to be registered with the Foreign Business office. It takes a day to track down his number and when Nunu gets ahold of him, he is in a meeting.

For 2 days, Nunu receives text messages from Antonio saying the documents were emailed, but we get nothing. Yesterday he texted his email to make sure Antonio was using the right one. Today we get a call from Sumate saying that Antonio was in a motorcycle accident on his way to the internet and he is at the hospital. We’re not really sure if it was serious or not, Sumate will let us know as he finds out.

An hour later Antonio calls. He is okay! He is banged up but okay. Bless his heart as soon as he gets out of the hospital he goes to use the internet and sends us the documents. What a guy!

2. The Despacho. Monday Nunu went to the Ministry of Justice (MOJ) and found out that in order to receive a new Despacho, PS needs to have a meeting with it’s Members, write a letter stating that they need a new Despacho and they all need all the members to sign the letter.

When PS became and ONG a lawer named Bruno headed the efforts up. He is now a judge. Julia asks us to call Bruno on Tuesday as she talked with him a while back about needing a new Despacho and he didn’t mention anything about a meeting. A meeting might be hard, as the officers would need to meet and Julia is currently in Brazil.

When Nunu calls Bruno, he is told to go back to the MOJ to ask for the Segunda Via (second copy, duplicate). He does this on Wednesday morning, but is told once again that the Members need to sign a document.

Today Nunu calls Bruno again and Bruno tells him that the Members will need to meet and get the document signed. I talk to Julia via skype this evening and she tells me that she will have to do this when she comes to Maputo this summer.

One down two to go!

3. The Land Permit. A bit of background… We were given through January to build on the land. In November and December PS was planning to build on the land, but then someone had the idea to file for an extension (seeing as money is tight for the organization). First I heard about the extension it was to be filed and completed in Maputo. Then a few week before I came to Moz, I heard that someone had found a way to file for the extension from up in Pemba. Great!

When I arrived in Maputo, Nunu told me that he had been trying to follow up on the extension for the last few weeks, but he needed a document from Pemba. The document was supposed to be email 2 weeks before my arrival and he kept texting & calling asking that his message be relayed to the person who was supposed to send the email. The guy who was supposed to send the document lost his cell phone and so communication has been difficult. Nunu was under the impression that because the document hadn’t been sent that things were squared away and we had gotten the extension. Of course there are two sides to every story and the other man thought Nunu was able to get his work done with out the document. Big miscommunication… whatever, moving on!

The man in Pemba who had said he could file the extension is no where to be found (his office says he went out of town or to another office… it’s confusing). So we are back at square one, with no extension and our paper work is out of date.

The task at hand now is to find out if we can still build and file for an extension and what we need to build. We talked to Pastor Felipe and he tells Nunu that it shouldn’t be a problem to get the extension for the land because it is in the bush (meaning so far out, I can testify to that!). Felipe says we should build something first before asking for the extension.

One interesting thing about Mozambique is you can never buy land, the government always owns the land. You can own trees, fences and building, but not the land they sit on. So what Felipe is suggesting isn’t out of the ordinary.

Julia is okay with this plan, but would also like to know what the Department of Agriculture says, so Nunu heads there on Wednesday. He finds out that official response is that we need to write a letter explaining why we haven’t built in the allotted time and ask for an extension. Then the letter needs to be turn that in with the land permit that we have.

Today Nunu calls Bruno to get his take on the land situation and he says it is probably best to write the letter and submit.

So in 4 days we have made some progress. We are down to 2 tasks, but only because we are unable to complete it. I feel like Nunu has been running around like a mad man but even though I’ve been sick, I still feel like I’ve contributed. Being that a miscommunication is what got us here, at least for some items, I’ve tried to keep Julia in the loop so we don’t do anything unnecessary and so she is able to keep giving us input and ideas of what to do next.

I haven’t had much spare time, but I was able to get the remote access working for my old architecture firm. So I have logged some hours, at least enough to cover the cost of a few of my nights here. I hope to do more as I feel better. It’s not the most convenient working environment because I have to sit right by the wireless router to get a signal and that is in the dining room. The main house is also usually much hotter than my room. While I don’t like being hot, I also don’t want to fry out my computer. Also they shut the net off around 10:30 each night, I’m sure they would keep it on it I ask, but I’m sure they have their reasons… so it is what it is.

Prayer Request:
- That we would see progress for all of this work!
- That Projecto Sonho would be able to support missionaries for 1 year visas!
- Continued health!

I Dodged The Malaria Bullet!

It’s Tuesday, I’m feeling better. I’m thinking I drank some bad water (ice cube) or got some sort of traveling bug (dodged the Malaria bullet this time… phew). My doctor in the states prescribed Ciprofloxacin should I become sick. I feel so normal, just the really strange stomach (I think?) cramping. So I started taking Cipro that last night and I feel better today.

So now to explain what I’m doing here in Maputo… you might need to take notes. It’s confusing. There are actually three things that Nunu and I are working on. Today I’ll give the basics as I’m not sure my mind is completely wrapped around everything yet.

Side note: The Dream Project (TDP) translated to Portuguese is Projecto Sonho (PS). In Mozambique we are Projecto Sonho, a national organization. When TDP was starting in Moz there was talk of foreign non-profits being asked to leave and so the decision was made to start PS. I guess you could call TDP and PS sister organizations. They are one in the same, just on paper they are different… at least that is how I see it.

1. The Dire (dearie). A Dire is similar to a one year resident visa. In order for volunteers to spend one year in Mozambique, they need a Dire. In order to obtain a Dire, you need the support of an organization that has been approved to support a Dire. Projecto Sonho is seeking that approval.

2. The Despacho (dis-patch-o). I’m not exactly sure what a Despacho is, but what I gather from looking over the photocopied sheet in Portuguese is that it’s similar to an American non-profits by-laws. Projecto Sonho currently only has copies of the Despacho and we need to obtain a new original document.

3. The Land Permit. This is the land in Ponta de Ouro. This land has been gifted from the government. We are working to get an extension of the time-line we were given for building on the land in Ponta. It is possible the extension has been filed for, but so many people have been working on this… it’s gotten a little confusing.

Okay so those are the basics.

Nunu and my goal is to turn in the necessary paperwork to get us these three things or have a plan in place for how we get things organized to move forward.

Where do we start? You might be thinking we need to look online to find the requirement for each of these things. Wouldn’t that be nice? That doesn’t exist. I would guess those kinds of list don’t exist in any office here in Mozambique.

What’s my role in all of this? Well on Friday I wouldn’t have really been able to tell you exactly what I would be doing. My guess would have been that I would have gone each office with Nunu. Being sick has more or less kept me from doing that. Even thought I’m feeling better I don’t want to leave the house. The last thing I want is to be sick in a public bathroom (or sidewalk) in Maputo.

So yesterday set the tone. Nunu ran around to the different offices and when he was done he came to Casa K to discuss and make a plan for today. While we are discussing, I email Julia to make sure we are on the right track and not having any miscommunications or misunderstanding. We also use my laptop to type up the documents we need to turn in. So my role is technology and communication.

I feel like one of the things I’m supposed to do with Dream Project is help with communication, but I always felt it was between our children and supporters in the states. I thought I would be communicating about life. About individual personalities. About how little boys get scratched knees and make silly jokes. At least for now, this is not the case. Instead I am writing about Dires, Despachos, and Land Permits!

I think that is enough for today, I’ll try to write through this process. I know things like this can be difficult in Moz, but I guess we will just have to wait and see!

Glad I'm Not On That Bus!

I woke up this morning around 4:00. Sometimes when I have a lot on my mind I have issues sleeping. I notice that my stomach feels a bit strange, but sometimes when I over think things I get nervous knots in my stomach. I try to relax and go back to sleep. I sleep for an hour or 2. What’s really strange is that I’m cold. I don’t really get cold living in the Midwest, how am I cold in Africa and it’s might be 72 degrees out? After that, I wake up thinking hours have gone by but when I look at my watch it has been 3 minutes. This happens over and over till about 9:00am. I finally decide to get up, but I just lay in bed. I feel weird.

I go down stairs a little before 11 and I bring some instant oatmeal with me. My stomach still feels a little off and I think maybe eating this will calm me down a bit. I make the oatmeal sit down and take one bite. It hits my stomach funny. I get distracted and end up talking to someone. I feel my whole entire body go hot. I instantly feel clammy and like I’m sweating. I throw my hand over my mouth… I feel sick! I sit a few seconds longer… the one bite of oatmeal has no business in my stomach… I run to the bathroom.

I instantly feel worse. I lay on the couch, but I ache all over and the couch is hot. So I keep rotating myself, and then I get a chill… which is so much better than a clammy sweat.

I’ve never felt like this before. One hour ago I felt a little funny, now I’m experiencing every flu symptom I’ve ever heard of and then some. Not to mention my stomach has never felt like this before in my life.

I stop. My heart races. I stare. I think. Could this be Malaria?! All I’ve ever heard about Malaria is that it’s different for everyone, some get flu symptoms for others it’s more like common cold for some a little of both.

I go upstairs and fall back asleep. Unlike last night I have no problem falling asleep. I sleep hard, really hard until 3 or 4. When I wake, I just lay in bed. My stomach still feels weird, but now it’s different. My stomach is cramping, or at least that is the only thing I could think to describe it. Maybe a good way to describe it is like contractions of the stomach. It’s not an ongoing feeling… it hurts bad for a few minutes and then I feel fine.

I decide to go eat some bread. Success.

I decide to eat dinner. Success.

But still the strange cramping in my stomach comes and goes.

Yesterday when Nunu and I were talking about what needed to be done we couldn’t decide if I should come along or just wait and meet with him after he’s run around town to gather information. This makes the decision easy. I text him saying he should just come to the Casa when he is done.

Being sick away from home is hard. You want someone to check up on you and bring you Sprite and pretzels. Today was the first time I have ever felt homesick in Mozambique. Most days at the Casa I feel alone. I only leave in the company of Nunu and Michael. It’s hard that they are the only people I know in Maputo and they are both men so neither are allowed in my room (house rules). It all makes me want to be in Pemba even more, but I hardly have the energy entertain these thoughts. 

As hard as this is, it would have been much harder on a bus. I will go to bed tonight counting my blessings and thankful that the Lord has kept me in Maputo. It’s hard when we don’t understand why things are happening… big or small it’s hard. Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways. He keeps us from things for our own protection. Maybe I haven’t gone to Pemba yet to avoid getting sick on a bus, maybe the reason is much more than I could ever understand. I guess it’s all about having faith that God knows and He is in control… and I don’t always need to understand. 

A New Day...

As promised I wake up ready to tackle the task at hand… all of them. While falling asleep last night, it dawns on me... before I left Detroit, I had been working for my old architecture firm in Chicago via remote access. Maybe I can get my remote access to work here?! I have to use my PC laptop for this and it doesn’t get a very good wireless signal here at the house. I call Nunu and ask him if he could take me to this place that I’m told has good wifi. I tell him we can also talk about what we need to do here in Maputo and I could also really go for a coke.

When he arrives we are asked to run an errand to go get some painkillers (apparently similar to Tylenol with Codeine, but purchased over the counter). We go to 2 Pharmacies and are told they don’t have it. I feel bad as the person who has requested this is in a lot of pain. I ask if there are any hospitals or clinics close and so we head to a clinic. At the clinic they said no they don’t have this, but the man points to his left and tells us to look at a Pharmacy just up the road. We walk more. We go in, the man says no, but points to his left and tells us the Pharmacy just up the road should have it. We walk more. We go in, the man says no, but points to his left and tells us the Pharmacy just up the road should have it. This repeats 3 more times! What I found crazy is that they all pointed to the left… even if the place to the right would have been closer.

As we walk into the 6^th or 7^th place I say this is the last one. We have walked in the opposite direction of the place with internet, and I feel like we have done all that we can. So we start going to the internet place. My heart sinks, a little as we walk back past so many of the Pharmacies we had just gone into.

We arrive at the internet exhausted. Nunu has been pretty quiet today, he is the one processing now. We get our cokes and I try jumping on to the remote access site. I get on for a second but then my internet goes out. I try not to make a big deal. We have been walking for at least 2 hours now and we have a 30 or so minute walk home.

So instead we sit back enjoy our ice-cold cokes, I even pour a little into a glass and drink it with ice. We get a little snack and discuss what we need to be doing and how long it might take.

The walk home doesn’t really seam that bad. The air has cooled off and compared to all the walking we did earlier, it’s nothing!

At dinner, the sisters ask if anyone could watch the house so that they can go to church. I volunteer. I was planning to watch a podcast, so I said I could just bring my laptop down in the morning while they were gone.

I go to bed feeling so much better than the night before. Sure I’d rather be on a bus to Pemba, but I find peace knowing that the Lord has laid these steps out before me. All I want to do is be where I’m needed. I’ll see how the next few days go and if I need to fly to Pemba alone, then that is what I will do.

Change of Plans!!!!

Yesterday, Nunu and I went and purchased our bus tickets to Pemba! I don’t know much about the trip, only that it take 2 – 3 days. Is much cheaper than flying (especially when you add in the cost of all of my luggage!). As all thing Mozambique, this was a new experience. I knew we needed to go to the bus station, and so I imagined that we would be going to a shop at the bus station.

As we approach this vast dirt parking lot of buses, Nunu points to a maroon bus and says, “this is the one we will take to Pemba.” Well in a matter of minutes we are walking aboard the bus to purchase our tickets. There is a man sitting in the drivers seat and another man in the back of the bus, he comes forward and asks to help us.

He shows us a chart of seats that already have a few hand written names. Nunu talks with the man to find out the price and purchase our ticket. I go off looking to check out the bus. The first thing I notice is that it seats 5 across and has windows that slide open (no A/C on the bus). I go on a hunt for seats that would give me the ability to open my own window. As I make my way further back, I notice that the seats in the last row look much more comfortable than all the others. I quickly check and see that I would be able to open my window.

I plead my case to Nunu and he is fine with the back row. We were hoping to take a bus on Saturday afternoon, since it takes Nunu 1.5 hours to get to where I’m staying at the Casa. We find out the only thing they have leaves at 5am! I guess it’s common for people to arrive at the bus the night before, since public transport doesn’t run at 3am. So we decided that we will head to the bus around 9pm. Which means we have a lot more to do tomorrow than we had expected!

Things get a little sketchy and the man tells us that he doesn’t have receipts for us, we will need to come back and get them tomorrow. I’m concerned but he assures us (well Nunu in Portuguese who then tells me) that our names are on the hand written roster and he will have our receipts waiting tomorrow. I’m not sure what to do, so in the end we get the mans name and cell phone number. We test the number and his phone rings… I guess all we can do is trust.

Fast forward to Friday… I can’t tell you how excited I am to leave Maputo and see the boys in Pemba! Everyday for the last week (maybe longer) all I’ve done is think about the day I get to go see my boys! Nunu calls me to say that he picked up our bus tickets... we are ready to GO!

If you recall I have about 210 pounds of stuff. Nunu has 1 backpack. The bus only allows 22 pounds per person to be stored below the bus and each of us can take a backpack on the bus. I will have to pay for the extra 170 pounds, but I estimate it to cost me less than $75. In an effort to save money, Nunu and I decide that it will be best to put some of my electronics into his bags and his clothes into my bags.

All week I’ve been trying to get a hold of Julia, but she just had a baby in Brazil. So it isn’t until about 7:00pm on Friday that I have all of my bags spread out and I’m trying to pack and resituate all the luggage that she calls. First she talks to Nunu. While she and Nunu talk I put the finishing touches on packing, but then I start to pay attention to what he is saying. I don’t speak much Portugese, I’m able to pick up on some things. I give Nunu a thumbs up and he shakes his head from side to side. Uh-oh.

I talk to Julie next. I find out that there has been a huge miscommunication! And we can’t leave Maputo. Well I guess technically I probably could have gone, but there is no way I’m taking a bus for 2 – 3 days with 210 pounds of luggage in a country where I don’t speak the language. Julie basically tells me if I can help Nunu then I should stay.

To be honest I’m just in shock. In one hour a taxi is supposed to pick us up to take us to the bus. I just want to see my boys and I estimate flying with all of my luggage to cost around $700! I also didn’t budget to spend more time in Maputo. My heart is breaking but all I can do right now is think of the practical issues... I’m going to need to spend to either stay or to go.

I cry. All I want is to go to my room, curl in a ball, next to my fan and fall asleep. But I can’t. All of Nunu’s clothing is spread out throughout all of my bags. So one by one I unlock them and start pulling his clothes out. I can tell Michael and Nunu both feel bad for me and they probably aren’t really sure what to do. I assure them that I’m okay, I’ll be fine tomorrow… this is just how I process things. 

Prayer Requests: I'm so behind on my blogs that it's been hard to make many requests, because they wouldn't make much sense. 

- I'm still in Maputo. Depending on how things go tomorrow and Sunday, Nunu and I will leave on the bus on Monday. I'm hoping and praying that we go no later than Wednesday.

- Tomorrow we are meeting with Pastor Felipe from Ponta de Ouro. I'll explain things better in more detail but just be praying for our time together tomorrow (Saturday). Also, be praying that his church would come along side of us in Ponta in many ways, but our biggest need now is volunteers to build to keep cost down. 

- Finances. I'm pretty sure that I am fine with money. I've even had a friend email not knowing any of this saying... let me know if your in a pinch, I could send you some money. But so my prayer would be that in addition to provision... that I would find good deals and my budgeted money would stretch far.

What's for dinner?

In all of my travels the thing I’m most curious about is how people live. I always wonder what the inside of people’s houses look like and how what is life like. How do they cook, do laundry all of the daily tasks.

Nunu’s is from the “suburbs” of Maputo and he is staying with his parents while we are working here. He asked me if I’d like to come to his house one day and I jumped at the chance!

Sometimes I’m even surprised at my own reactions and this was one of those occasions…  when Nunu asked, my actual response was, “can we kill a chicken?!” I’m not a hunter and I’ve never killed anything and then eaten it. This is the way of life here in Mozambique and something I’ve been really curious about.

Buying a live chicken is 100 MTN ($3.50), I think last year when I bought frozen chickens in Pemba they cost like 300 MTN. Chicken is a luxury and not often eaten because of the cost… to a local they would probably think I was crazy if I brought over a frozen chicken.

We arrive at the house just after 1:00. While the house is similar to many that I’ve seen in Moz, the land is different. It’s obvious that someone has a very green thumb. Even the “fence” that surrounds the property is of shrubs. As you enter there is a path with little plants on each side. The tour includes which fruit grow on the trees. If I remember correctly there are mango, lime, orange and palm (coconut) trees. I even notice a new tree that is encircled by cinder blocks, for protection. There are also various plants in the ground… sweet potatoes are the only one I can remember.

Entrance Gate

Entrance path, with house in the background.

Protected baby tree =)

The house itself is very simple. As you are walking in on what we would call a porch is the kitchen, or at least the part of the kitchen that all of the cooking is done in. It is entirely to hot to cook inside here in Moz. It’s a three room house with one master bedroom, one spare bedroom (which is also used for storage of some kitchen items) and a living room/kitchen. The kitchen half has a freezer, counter and storage bins for fruits and vegetables. The Living room half has 2 (leather looking) love seats and one matching chair. There is a small tv sitting on top of a big chest.

The house... I love this kind of stuff!

From the outside I can see where the window openings were blocked up and there is just small spaces at the top. Windows in Moz are a luxury item, because you can’t just have a simple screen (people would cut it open). You at least need steel bars and a screen, glass to keep the rain out is nice but not necessary… and I think the local would get cold at night if they had to always have windows open. Anyway, not many people have windows in Moz because they don’t want their things to be stolen.

I sit on one of the couches and I just feel the heat. I ask if we can move outside. The yard is so beautiful and offers so much shade AND a beautiful breeze.

Yard to the left (as you enter) of the entrance path.

I offered to pay for our meal… I figured chicken wouldn’t be on the menu except since I requested it. Maria heads out to the market and before I know it she is back with the chicken. She corners it in a small area in the kitchen and gets busy getting the fire and a few other things going.

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WARNGING: Stop reading now if you don’t want read the details about the chicken. Skip to the “WARNING OVER” below.

Nunu eventually tells me it’s time to kill the chicken. I don’t actually want to kill it, I just want to be part of the process. Nunu takes the chicken by the wings but he is waiting for the knife. I think this is the part that would be hard for me… he affectionately strokes the birds belly. When Maria comes out with the knife, he looks up at me and says, “I haven’t done this in awhile, this is the hard part.”

One last belly rub.

I’m surprised I’m able to watch. There isn’t much blood but the bird did poop on Nunu’s shoe! As soon as he is done Maria comes over and takes the bird. She sticks it in a large plastic bowl and using a kettle full of boiling water, she starts cleaning the bird… it’s body reacts to the water. That was strange, I’ve heard of a chicken running around with it’s head cut off, but to see a headless chicken moving is just strange!

I wanted to help some with the preparing of the chicken, but I always forget how hard a language barrier can be. So I just sit and watch Maria stand bent at the waste plucking the feathers off the chicken. But she must get how curious I am… she tells Nunu to tell me to come help AND I think she even tells him to take pictures!

Once again I surprise myself and dig right in pulling feathers, Maria is a little intimidating… you can tell this isn’t her first rodeo, but she is encouraging and we laugh and enjoy ourselves. She makes it all looks so easy and the bird is naked within 10 minutes tops.

Plucking feathers with Maria... and I'm still smiling!

When we are all done, I look at the bird in the bowl… if it didn’t have feet it would be no different than what we are used to. She cuts the feet off, I find it kinda interesting and think to myself, “oh now that looks like a chicken leg.”

WARNING OVER

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At this point the bird in the bowl looks no different than if we had bought him at the store. Next Maria is on to make a marinara for the bird. I love to watch her work… all her movements are so rhythmic and precise.

First she cuts a coconut in half and she lets me drink the milk. It’s better than I recall coconut milk being. She then sits on this little stool with some sort of a contraption sticking out of the side. It’s like a spoon gone wrong, or better yet like a spork (spoon/fork). She starts scraping out the inside of the coconut. She is like a machine, only stopping every once in awhile to see if she has scraped to the brown.

Maria shaving out the center of the coconut.

She picks about four limes from the tree and cuts them in half. She squeezes the limes into the coconut scraping using her left hand like a strainer to catch the seeds. She also dices up some garlic adding it to the mixture. With her hands she mixes the coconut scrapings, garlic and limes. Mashing all the ingredients together. Then she picks up the coconut and starts squeezing out all the juice.

The chicken has been cut so that it will lay flat in a pot. Maria also makes cuts deep into the meat. The juice is poured all over and some of the coconut scraping and juice are put in the cuts. With this the bird is ready to be cooked.

Chicken cooking in the coconut/lime/garlic rub.

After the bird was cooked through, Maria put it in this
contraption over the store to grill it a bit. She asked me if
I thought it was browned enough and so I flipped it.

With precision, I watch as Maria peals and slices potatoes. She also peals a carrot and cucumber. She is persistent in asking for my help, not that I really do much, but I appreciate her efforts. And it’s interesting seeing how much goes into making a meal.

Potatoes cooked in a little oil... so yummy!

Official taste tester of the day... Maria insisted I sample
everything to make sure it was cooked to my liking.

In the end we feast on chicken, potatoes (fried in a bit of oil, not quite a French fry, but close), rice, and salad (cucumbers, onions, tomatoes, and oil). I’m surprised by the chicken, while it tasted amazing (I love lime!) it wasn’t quite as tender as I would have imagined. I thought if anything the chicken would be more tender than what I’m used to, since it was so fresh.

When I asked to kill a chicken, it was one of those things where immediately I wished I could take it back. I’m not a very adventurous eater and I really didn’t know if I would be able to eat something that I had seen killed. I think so much of it has to do with where I am. I can’t even imagine trying to explain no I can’t eat that because it used to be alive. It would be like if you went to a lot of trouble to prepared a special meal for a guest and when you all got seated at the table the guest told you that they couldn’t eat it because you bought it at the store.

I’ll tell you one thing thought, I was beyond thrilled that there were no gizzards or livers served… cause this story may have ended on a completely different note!

Prayers and such:
My blog is way behind, almost 2 weeks (I was sick for 4 days and without the net for 5 days before that, so I've been playing catch up). So to catch you up to speed. I'm still in Maputo. I'll be blogging shortly to explain why, but the short version is that Nunu and I are trying to get some really important paperwork turned in. I'm really, really, really hoping we can leave this Saturday to travel to Pemba. Above all I want to be where I'm needed and where God wants me, but I'd really love to be up in Pemba.
- If you could be praying that we would get all the documents we need, to get the papers filed, and that we would be in front of the right people at the right time (as for one paper we've been told 4 different thing about what department it needs to be filed at, different department in different building in different parts of town).
- Nothing here is easy. So I don't even know what to ask for other than that doors be opened and that God prepare the perfect path for the documents we need to turn in.
- That Nunu and I would be on a bus to Pemba on Saturday.
- As always for continued health.