Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Here's What I Know...


Two years ago today, I first arrived in Mozambique. During that first trip, I instantly was drawn in by one of the boys. It probably started because he spoke the best English, but also because he is such a hard worker and so very determined.

One of our first conversations he asked me if I could help him with his English and teach him how to use the computer. He also translated for me most nights during Family Time.

When I first met Traduzir, he was 16. It so amazing to be able to look back and see, not only how Traduzir has grown, but it’s also fun to have history with him. It’s also amazing to look at this 18-year-old young man and see just how God is working in his life and to see that he is more determined than the day I met him.

As close as I am with Traduzir, I still find myself questioning what is appropriate. Not in the ways I’m used to working with teens in the States. But wondering what questions are too personal. What parts of his life are off limits? What questions are hurtful? What is appropriate along those lines?

The one thing I know about each of these children, is that their past is what brought them to us. Be it the death of a parent (or 2), the absence of a parent (or 2), the lack of resources, or some other fact of life that I personally can’t even begin to imagine. While I know some of the stories, I never know just how painful they are.

Since meeting Traduzir, I’ve been very curious to know where he comes from. What is his family like? What and who shaped him into this determined and smart young man? In short, I’ve always wanted to go to Traduzir’s house. But I never felt right asking him this.

Even last fall, when Julie took visitors to his house, it still didn’t feel right. I think part of me wanted him to invite me.

In early January I woke up one morning and one of the staff told me that Traduzir had left early in the morning, because his father died. I didn’t actually know his father was alive, so it was surprising to me.

When I saw him a few days later, he didn’t have the same spunk I was used to but I wasn’t sure how to talk to him about his father’s passing.

Another week or so passed and we were talking outside and Traduzir started talking to me about death. He told me that the day before his friend’s son died. I think he said someone else had died too, but he was also talking about how an old president died and that is why there was no school (like Presidents Day or something similar), so I was a little confused.

But it was one of the more revealing conversations Traduzir has had with me. It wasn’t even that long, I was more touched that he was opening his heart to me in this new way. 

A few days later, I realized I hadn’t seen Traduzir around much, and while the other kids were back in school he didn’t start for another week or so. That evening I saw him and said hello and asked how he was doing and he told me he was tired. That is not a response I usually get from any of the children, as they are balls of energy. So I asked what he was doing and the told me that he had gone to his house to do chores. He went on to tell me that his mother was out at the farm and his sister was alone, so he went to help her around the house.

The best way I can describe it is going out to the farm. It’s a common thing here. I don’t know who own the farms, but it’s common for women (and sometimes men) to travel out of town to a farm. They spend a month or two working to gather produce. At this point, that is all I know.

So his mother is away at the farm, and his sister is alone. His sister is 14 years old.

My mind is bombarded with questions and thoughts… as I’m sure yours is right now. Is she safe? Is she scared? Does she go to school? Where else could she stay? Could she come here? The questions just keep running in my mind. But I do my best to not look out freaked out but to try to find out more information.

I don’t really get much information, while Traduzir’s English is really good, sometime we just don’t connect. He can’t figure out the words, I’m not sure what he is saying. Since he is tired, it’s a difficult conversation.

I leave the conversation basically knowing that his mom is gone for a month to work at the farm. And during this time his sister is left at the house to watch it and so she can attend school. I know this is common; in fact some of our boys have come to live with us because of this whole farm situation and being left at home at a much younger age. My American thought process is never going to really understand this, so I don’t linger to long on the topic, but vow to myself to ask more.

This must have been a week ago. A few days ago we were talking again. I actually don’t even remember the conversation. I don’t even remember how Traduzir’s house came up but at the end of the conversation we had plans to visit his home on Saturday. I couldn’t be any happier.

One of the hardest things about living in Pemba, is being surrounded by so many in need. In the average week, I would say that at least 2 people come to Nunu and I in need, and that is just the people we know… it doesn’t include folks who walk up to us on the street. While The Dream Project has a budget each month for this kind of thing, it runs out fast. While we are good at saying “No” to lesser requests, Nunu and I could still easily spend all of our money just helping people. What we found works for us is to put our tithe toward helping others or whatever giving we do.

To give you an idea last week alone three of our boys came to us (2 who live here and 1 who might as well,). One had a sister die, one had a sick mom, and one’s sister miscarried twins. They all need bus money to get to the funerals or hospitals. How on earth do you say no to those kinds of request?

So anyways, Nunu and I try to discuss how we will spend our tithe each month. I told him I was going to be going to Traduzir’s house and filled him in on the situation and we agreed on a number that I could spend to buy food or other items his sister, Sarah, needed.

First Traduzir and I went into town. I needed to buy a few things and we also bought 2 loaves of bread, 8 bananas and a bottle of dish soap to take to his sister.

We wound our way through the village of Ciraco. Talking basically the whole way. I asked more about the farm and his mom. I found out that they don’t know exactly when she will come back, she is usually gone for 1 or 2 months. I found out that she doesn’t earn money while she is gone but will come back with produce. I asked Traduzir where does his family get money to buy food the rest of the year and his words ring in my ear. After a short pause, he looks up from the ground and say, “I really don’t know Mana Manda.” I don’t push.

He goes on to tell me that his mother sometimes asks him for money, he tells me, "if I have it, I give it to her but I don’t always have money." I also asked him what Sarah eats and got the same response… he doesn’t know. This is when it gets hard.

I’m sure your heart is breaking a little bit, as mine did too. This is life in Moz. I do my best to maintain composure as if he has just told me of the weather. All the while my mind is running wild.

After a 25 or 30 minute walk, we arrive at his house. We head around to the back and find Sarah is bent over a little cement stove. I look around. The yard is very simple. I notice a bamboo cage of ducks and wonder over. I ask if they are for eggs or to eat. Traduzir isn’t sure but thinks they must eat them.

Front of the house.

Sarah cooking over a small cement stove. 

The back of the house. 

Ducks in a cage.

I ask if I can go in the house, and if I can take pictures. He says yes with no hesitation. It is a 4 room house, probably 22’ x 15’. Three are private with door and the other one is an open space, like a family room. Although all 4 spaces have beds and bug nets. Traduzir has an older brother who just enlisted in the Military and apparently an uncle is storing his bed in the living room. I notice that the front door has a wood slot on each side, so a board can be slipped into place as a lock at night. I also see that Sarah’s room has as lock. Traduzir tells me he bought that for her and told her to keep all the valuables in there and lock it when she goes out… basically the food and cooking supplies.


I absolutely love this picture of the corner of the living room.
Traduzir shows me the schapa (roof tin) that he received from the Dream Project a few months back. Rather than putting it on the roof, he has it stored in the rafters with dreams of a new house for his mom and sister in the future.

A quick glance up and you see more than just roof, but also sky. Lots of sky. Traduzir points out where the rain has started destroying the walls. I try to take pictures to share what it looks like but I try not to stare or show just how heart breaking this is. Because this is Sarah’s home, her life, her reality.

The ball of light is a large hole in the ceiling. If you look down to the
left, you can see where the rain has washed away the wall.

We go back out and I sit along the side of the house. The rain has created a little mound along the edge. Sarah goes in the house to fetches me the one chair they have. I’m happy to see that Sarah is cooking. I ask Traduzir what she is making and he points to a tree and tells me it’s the leaves from there.

I see the small tree. I also see that there aren’t many leaves left on the tree. I think to myself, “what else does she eat” but I don’t dare say it out loud.

The tree in the middle is the one she is eating leaves from.

She is cooking the leaves with a small onion and some Benny (chicken seasoning). Sarah also has a friend with her who laughs each time I take a picture. I’m glad to see she isn’t alone. I find out the girl lives next door and I can see her house though some falling bamboo.

Cooking the leaves.

We ask Sarah if she needs anything and find out she need laundry soap and a broom (not like our kind of broom, but it’s a bunch of some grass like thing that they use to sweep the ground). It’s nearing noon and I’m getting hungry. I bought some cookies at the store and so I pull them out to share. I go to hand one to the friend and drop it. I guess the 5 second rule applies here too… even when outside standing on a dirt floor.

We head to the closest Market a ten minute walk. I’m getting bolder as I talk to Traduzir. I tell him if any of my questions make him uncomfortable he can tell me or say he doesn’t want to answer. And away we go.

I ask about his dad. I find out that his dad left when he was 6. After that Traduzir went to live with his grandma for a few months. His grandmother eventually moved out to the farm (once again I don’t know who owns these farms). Traduzir said he didn’t want to go, so he went back to live with his mom.

When he was like 8 or 9, he went on a search for his dad. His mother didn’t know where he was or even if he was still in Pemba. Traduzir eventually found him working an Industrial job. They talked and his father encouraged him to stay in school but never offered to help or tried to give any money.

When Traduzir’s dad left, he had another woman. So now he considered them his family. His salary was used for them. Traduzir and his mother, brother and sister were left behind to fend for themselves.

He tells me that he saw his dad a few more times before he died but that it had been about a year since he had seen him. He also told me that he doesn’t hate his dad for leaving nor does he hold a grudge. He told me he forgave him a long time ago.

We arrive back at the house. In addition to the laundry soap we also bought 6 eggs for Sarah. Traduzir visits a little longer and we give Sarah the money to buy a broom ($.68). She thanks me for coming and bringing the things. I tell her that I hope to visit again.

We begin the walk back.

Traduzir told me a while back that he wants to study University in New Zealand. I know… actually I don’t know… where did he come up with this? But when I was in 6th grade I did a report on Australia and from that day on it was a dream of mine to go there. I think because of my dream (that probably only made sense to me), I instantly understood his dream. And while I don’t think it will be easy, I believe so much in Traduzir and his determination that he will do everything in his power to achieve his dream. And the coolest thing about Traduzir is that he has laid this at the Lord’s feet.

Today I asked Traduzir if after he goes to University in New Zealand, will he want to come back to Pemba. He said yes. I asked will you want to come back and work with The Dream Project and he said, “Well yes, if they pay me (meaning give him a job).” He went on to say, “I owe them so much. They have done so much for me, I want to be able to give it back to them.”

I tell you this kid. The Lord is using and is going to use him to do great things and I’m excited to watch.

The story doesn’t end yet. As soon as I got home, I recapped my morning for Nunu. He was so touched. For those of you who don’t know all of Nunu’s story, when he was about 16 the orphanage he was living in asked him to move home (since he had a parent). The only thing was that his dad didn’t actually live at their house. He lived 1 hour away (walking). Nunu and his 14 year old brother lived by themselves and had to walk to their dad’s house each day to receive about 70 cents between the 2 of them to make dinner.

I was planning to ask Nunu if we could help Sarah until her mom returns but he suggested it first! I love it when we are both touched by God to act in the same way. We talked for a while and decided that we want to help but not over do it. We agreed to start small plan to give Traduzir money to buy Sarah eggs, bananas and rice each week.

Balance is a hard thing here, so we don’t want to give so much that she becomes dependant on us once her mother returns. It’s hard to know just how to respond, we just know have to do something so this is where we will start.

We pulled Traduzir in to our room to let him know what our plans were and I’ll never get used to people reactions here. They are so somber. Almost some strange combination of being embarrassed that they need help mixed with shock and not being able to find the words to express what you are feeling.

We also told Traduzir to let us know if she has other needs and we will do our best to help.

We didn’t mention anything about the house, but Nunu would really like to find a way to build a new house for this family… that basically means we have to find the money to pay for it =)

For me asking some questions in Mozambique can be so hard. Hard because the reality here is so different from what I am used to. Hard because it’s someone’s life I’m asking about… and often times it’s the only thing they have ever known. Hard because once I know the answer, I am changed. I can no longer sit back and say I don’t know.

So here is what I know today:
I know that there is a 14-year-old girl named "Sarah".
I know she is living alone in her house while her mother is away at the farm.
I know she sleeps under a leaky roof with a flat cardboard box above her bed as her last line of defense from the rain.
I know she ate leaves for lunch.
I know when we asked her if she needed anything she said a broom and soap.
I know I’m changed.
I know Nunu and I will try and provide for Sarah while her mother is away.
I know it would cost around $500 to build a new home for Traduzir's family. 
I know God will provide.

If you or your small group, co-workers, mom’s group or whoever would be interested in helping us raise part of the $500, email me. If you would like to donate money toward the cost of the house, donations can be made through The Dream Project by clicking here.

As always, thanks for reading and sharing with me in this journey. 
Keep us in your prayers.
Be Blessed!
Amanda

** Names of children have been changed, as some stories are of a private nature. Whenever possible I use the same names from Dreaming of Mozambique. If you are sponsoring a child and would like to know the name I use for them, please email me.