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.
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| Front of the house. |
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| Sarah cooking over a small cement stove. |
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| The back of the house. |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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 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.
