In a completely selfish way—I really needed this week. I needed the space and time to be around someone who knows me—well. I needed to be around someone who understands me because he knows who/what/and where I have come from. I am SO thankful that Sam came, that he gave me the space to be with him and that he still accepts me—emotions, clumsiness and all. (Thanks friend)
I have already told him that—6 years ago—he would have been the last person I would have expected to visit me in Africa. And now, as he prepares to leave I understand why it was him. God has a funny way of bringing people together—though Sam and I have known each other our entire lives, it is only within the last year that we’ve been reconnected by a common call into missions. Though different in nature, a common love for Jesus and the developing world (and Jesus in the developing world) has allowed our paths to cross very far away from The Cove—and for that I am thankful.
On the other, slightly less narcissistic, hand, the opportunity to share a place I love with a good friend has been…a blessing, I think, for both of us. Not everyone who moves abroad gets to share their life with loved ones. Watching Sam experience Maputo (and talk about other African experiences) was, in a word, cool. To see the growth in the course of a matter of weeks (and to know that this has only ignited a fire that had already begun burning) is a real encouragement as I consider the future of international missions.
It has been exciting to see Maputo (and Moç) through fresh eyes. Especially as I "forced" Sam to go for solo walks :) and play with kids that didn't share his language. It is easy to forget to really "be" here—to be fully invested in the people and the community around (simply because of the ebb and flow of everyday life). And spending the week with Sam has been a refreshing reminder of why I love Southern Africa so much (and I hope that Sam has fallen in love with it too).
So in closing this completely nebulous, emotional and guilty(?) "guest entry" I just want to say:
Thank you, Sam. Your visit has been a blessing to my heart, and exactly what I needed right now. (And thank you in advance for letting me call you when I need to talk about Moç when I come home) I am looking forward to seeing where it is that God will call you and what it is that He will have you do.
See you in Africa soon.
Love,
Christina
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Friday, 19 April: Last Morning in Africa
We didn't go to Masana this morning so Christina and I could explore the Baixa (pron. "by-sha". The downtown, or old, part of Maputo.). Our first stop was at a fort that had at one time defended the city. It was originally built in the 18th-century and then rebuilt in the 1800s ( :) ). There was an assortment of cannons and other fixed guns around the parapets of the fort. There was also a pile of old artillery shells. I wondered aloud if they had been diffused or not. Christina thought they probably had been. The rusting casings revealed that they had not been. We hurried past the shells.
From the fort, we walked towards the circle where the Centro Cultural Franco-Moçambicano is located. We stopped by a park on the way there. It was flooded in many areas and the grounds crew was cutting the grass. We had to jump over a few puddles of nasty, algae-water. At one of them, I slipped, but was able to catch myself before falling in the puddle (I think Christina's gracefulness was starting to wear off on me :) ).
We climbed some steps and the park was much nicer (by that I mean drier, the entire park was nice). We exited the park and went back inside the Centre to finish the architectural exhibit.
Christina wanted to take me to the Caminhos de Ferra de Moçambique (CFM, the train station) so she asked someone for directions. On our way to the CFM, we came to a corner where we noticed everyone had stopped around us. There was a man beside the building with a pistol outstretched pointing at the crowd. Another man with a shotgun stood by a van. Christina explained that we were fine; they were just transporting money to or from a bank.
Next, we walked through a sketchier part of the baixa on the way to the station. There was a noticeable difference as we walked through this part of the city. We got looks from almost everyone on the streets. I could tell this was a section of town white people normally didn't walk through. It was a bit uncomfortable being in this position, but it gave me a small glimpse of what Christina goes through when she walks around Maputo.
At one point we decided to jaywalk across the street. The road was only big enough for one car, and there was a car with its turn signal on. In the middle of the street, the driver (with the turn signal still on) sped towards us. We could hear him laughing as we narrowly dodged being hit.
We finally arrived at the train station. If you've ever seen the movie Blood Diamond, then you may remember it as the hotel where Solomon Vandy worked after being released from prison. The CFM has a really cool architectural style (It's sometimes mistakenly believed to have been designed by Gustave Eiffel, who designed the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty.).
After touring the CFM, we took a txopela to meet Katie and her mom at a restaurant. Christina and I arrived first so we ordered something to drink while we waited. Katie and her mom arrived no long after that and we ordered. Christina recommended I try the Galinha a Zambeziana (Chicken Zambezia), which was essentially chicken coated with a BBQ-esque sauce. It was delicious!
As we ate, we listened to stories from Katie's mom (She was kind and only told a few embarrassing ones.). Mary (Katie's mom's name) has a very similar personality to Christina's mom, Betty, so Christina really appreciated having a motherly figure around.
After lunch, we said our goodbyes and headed to the artisan park so I could get souvenirs for the rest of my family. As we entered the park, Christina got a message that she had to run home quick. Meanwhile, I was on my own to walk through the park looking through all the stands.
As I walked, I was constantly bombarded by the sellers trying to show me their pieces. I thought I handled the situations fairly well with a standard, "Boa tarde. [Seller would show me something.] Ah, muito bonita." (bonita = pretty). Once Christina came back she helped me buy the last few souvenirs (quite literally because I needed to borrow some meticais.).
It was getting close to the time we needed to leave to make it to the airport. We headed back to the house and I packed my suitcases up while Christina penned a guest entry in my journal (coming soon!). We also shared the last two mango pops which I savored to the last bite. She didn't finished hers and gave what was left to me (As far as I'm concerned, giving up your mango pop is a true sign of friendship. Probably right below giving your life to save your friend's. Well, at least with Christina's mango pops :) ).
Once my bags were packed, we waited for Stam (Max's roommate) to come pick us up. I could feel the pit in my stomach beginning to form. My time in Maputo (and Africa) had ended too soon.
At the airport, a baggage man put my luggage on a cart and pushed it through the airport. Christina came inside with me to say goodbye. There was a security checkpoint about 20 feet inside the door and Christina wasn't allowed to go past the gate. So we had to say our goodbyes right there in front of the baggage man and two security guards, making it a bit awkward (Mozambican men don't know how to respond to other people crying so they often do so by laughing at them.).
We said our goodbyes. I could see that she was fighting back tears, so I did my best to help keep her from crying to avoid a laughing trio behind us. After one final hug, we parted ways and I headed to the check-in counter.
As I waited at the gate, more and more people began to show up. As 4:50 pm approached, everyone stood up and formed a queue in anticipation of boarding. We ended up standing for half an hour before boarding actually began.
On the plane, many of the passengers were concerned about making their connecting flight to London from Johannesburg. The flight attendant wasn't being very helpful so I helped to explain the layout of Tambo International Airport for one Brit who was really concerned about not having a boarding pass for his next flight. I explained that he would have to get one in Johannesburg.
When we arrived in Johannesburg half an hour late, it was chilly and pouring rain. I just missed the first shuttle from the plane so I had to wait for a second one to come. The second shuttle came and I made sure to get a spot near the door for an easy exit. The shuttle took 5 long minutes to get to the door of the airport.
As soon as the doors opened, I took off through the doors to beat the crowd. I helped direct a few of the Brits in the right direction through the airport. I was the first person to get to the immigrations queue and quickly proceeded to the SAA check-in counter.
When the lady saw which flight I was on, she frantically called the representatives at the gate to let them know I was on my way. Boarding had started 5 minutes ago! She told me boarding was closed and that I had better hurry. I hustled through the security checkpoint and ran through the airport to gate A9. As I ran down the ramp and my gate came into view, I slowed to a walk.
With the Boston Marathon bombing, every passenger was being patted down and had their carry-ons searched. The delay had backed up all the passengers so that they filled the entire seating area. While I was waiting, I saw John and JoLene arrive.
When I was finally on the plane, I collapsed in my seat from the exhaustion of the prior hours. God must have known that I needed some space because the person in the seat beside me never showed up and the flight wasn't very crowded. John and JoLene's seats were in the same section as me, only a few rows in front of mine.
As I relaxed, I overheard some of the other passengers talking about the suspects in the bombings. One of the brothers had been killed, but the other one was on the loose and the city of Boston was on lockdown during the manhunt.
Shortly after takeoff, we were served a meal. I ended up having the same thing as my first meal flying to Africa. I watched an episode of Modern Family while I ate. I remember it was funny, but that's all. Then I read Christina's guest post (she made me promise not to read it until I was in the air). I was really tired at this point and slept for about 2 hours.
When I woke up, I watched Silver Linings Playbook. I really enjoyed it and thought the story was well done. Next I watched a film on the unique wildlife of Madagascar which was narrated by David Attenborough. I tried to sleep some more, but failed so I read continued The Fellowship of the Ring until the stewardesses served some chicken wraps. Then I watched Trouble with the Curve with Clint Eastwood, Amy Adams, and Justin Timberlake. It was okay. Then I rewatched Skyfall because none of the other movies looked good (I almost chose The Hangover Pt. II, but passed on it at the last second.).
After Skyfall was over, there was an announcement that breakfast would soon be served. I took a short nap until the lights came on and breakfast was served. I chose the French toast option, but soon regretted it as the "French toast" was horrendous and I had to force myself to eat it.
I tried to fall asleep again, but couldn't with the taste in my mouth. I ended up reading more of The Fellowship of the Ring until it was announced that we would be making the descent into JFK. As we descended, many different emotions flowed through me. Excitement to see everyone in the States again. Sadness that Christina and Africa were a whole world away. I've heard it said that once you get the African dirt in your shoes, it's impossible to get it out. This is definitely a true statement. It felt like I had left a piece of my heart in Africa.
We touched down and taxied to the arrival gate. I patiently waited my turn and finally was able to exit the plane. Once in the airport, I hustled to catch up to John and JoLene. We got to immigrations and stood in a long queue. We exchanged stories about our experiences in the weeks we were separated. They had spent a week with Steve and Chris in Beira and had gotten to experience a rural church service in the bush. The last week they spent visiting a family friend in South Africa.
As we got closer to the immigrations desk, we noticed two televisions showing CNN. We learned that the second bombing suspect had been apprehended alive.
Eventually we made it to the front of the queue and through immigrations. It was almost foreign for me to be greeted in English and to carry on a conversation with a stranger. The official stamped my passport and I moved on to the baggage claim.
At the conveyor, I stood and searched for my bags, but didn't see them. John and JoLene came and found theirs, but mine still hadn't shown up. I searched some more, including some bags on the ground around the conveyor, but I still didn't see them.
When I got back to where I started, John was talking with an airport official about my situation. She directed me to a desk to file a claim. The man at the desk was very courteous (this should be a requirement for anyone in this type of position) who was able to confirm that my bags were still in Johannesburg. He filed my claim and explained that once my bags arrived in New York, they would be shipped to my house. He also gave me a notice to take through customs.
The customs man saw that I had lost my bags and let me through no questions asked. It didn't look like they were checking very many people's luggage which was surprising considering the hassle in Johannesburg.
I found John and JoLene waiting for me and explained the situation. We then proceeded to the AirTran. We boarded and road it to where the rental cars were. We caught a shuttle to Enterprise. Our car only had 7 miles on it to begin with, so it was safe to say we would put many multiples of that original mileage on the car before we arrived back in Central Pennsylvania.
Though the drive home took around 4 hours, it seemed to fly by after being on the plane for 16 ½ hours. I passed the time by reading and viewing the familiar Pennsylvania scenery which almost seemed new to me. John and JoLene dropped me off at my house a little after 1:00 pm. I was back.
My African adventure was over.
From the fort, we walked towards the circle where the Centro Cultural Franco-Moçambicano is located. We stopped by a park on the way there. It was flooded in many areas and the grounds crew was cutting the grass. We had to jump over a few puddles of nasty, algae-water. At one of them, I slipped, but was able to catch myself before falling in the puddle (I think Christina's gracefulness was starting to wear off on me :) ).
 |
| Just a small sampling of the 50+ bats we saw in one of the trees. |
 |
| We saw this guy taking advantage of the wetness of the park. |
 |
| Art made from former weapons of the civil war. |
Next, we walked through a sketchier part of the baixa on the way to the station. There was a noticeable difference as we walked through this part of the city. We got looks from almost everyone on the streets. I could tell this was a section of town white people normally didn't walk through. It was a bit uncomfortable being in this position, but it gave me a small glimpse of what Christina goes through when she walks around Maputo.
At one point we decided to jaywalk across the street. The road was only big enough for one car, and there was a car with its turn signal on. In the middle of the street, the driver (with the turn signal still on) sped towards us. We could hear him laughing as we narrowly dodged being hit.
We finally arrived at the train station. If you've ever seen the movie Blood Diamond, then you may remember it as the hotel where Solomon Vandy worked after being released from prison. The CFM has a really cool architectural style (It's sometimes mistakenly believed to have been designed by Gustave Eiffel, who designed the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty.).
 |
| Unfortunately, we didn't see Leo. |
As we ate, we listened to stories from Katie's mom (She was kind and only told a few embarrassing ones.). Mary (Katie's mom's name) has a very similar personality to Christina's mom, Betty, so Christina really appreciated having a motherly figure around.
After lunch, we said our goodbyes and headed to the artisan park so I could get souvenirs for the rest of my family. As we entered the park, Christina got a message that she had to run home quick. Meanwhile, I was on my own to walk through the park looking through all the stands.
As I walked, I was constantly bombarded by the sellers trying to show me their pieces. I thought I handled the situations fairly well with a standard, "Boa tarde. [Seller would show me something.] Ah, muito bonita." (bonita = pretty). Once Christina came back she helped me buy the last few souvenirs (quite literally because I needed to borrow some meticais.).
It was getting close to the time we needed to leave to make it to the airport. We headed back to the house and I packed my suitcases up while Christina penned a guest entry in my journal (coming soon!). We also shared the last two mango pops which I savored to the last bite. She didn't finished hers and gave what was left to me (As far as I'm concerned, giving up your mango pop is a true sign of friendship. Probably right below giving your life to save your friend's. Well, at least with Christina's mango pops :) ).
Once my bags were packed, we waited for Stam (Max's roommate) to come pick us up. I could feel the pit in my stomach beginning to form. My time in Maputo (and Africa) had ended too soon.
At the airport, a baggage man put my luggage on a cart and pushed it through the airport. Christina came inside with me to say goodbye. There was a security checkpoint about 20 feet inside the door and Christina wasn't allowed to go past the gate. So we had to say our goodbyes right there in front of the baggage man and two security guards, making it a bit awkward (Mozambican men don't know how to respond to other people crying so they often do so by laughing at them.).
We said our goodbyes. I could see that she was fighting back tears, so I did my best to help keep her from crying to avoid a laughing trio behind us. After one final hug, we parted ways and I headed to the check-in counter.
As I waited at the gate, more and more people began to show up. As 4:50 pm approached, everyone stood up and formed a queue in anticipation of boarding. We ended up standing for half an hour before boarding actually began.
On the plane, many of the passengers were concerned about making their connecting flight to London from Johannesburg. The flight attendant wasn't being very helpful so I helped to explain the layout of Tambo International Airport for one Brit who was really concerned about not having a boarding pass for his next flight. I explained that he would have to get one in Johannesburg.
When we arrived in Johannesburg half an hour late, it was chilly and pouring rain. I just missed the first shuttle from the plane so I had to wait for a second one to come. The second shuttle came and I made sure to get a spot near the door for an easy exit. The shuttle took 5 long minutes to get to the door of the airport.
As soon as the doors opened, I took off through the doors to beat the crowd. I helped direct a few of the Brits in the right direction through the airport. I was the first person to get to the immigrations queue and quickly proceeded to the SAA check-in counter.
When the lady saw which flight I was on, she frantically called the representatives at the gate to let them know I was on my way. Boarding had started 5 minutes ago! She told me boarding was closed and that I had better hurry. I hustled through the security checkpoint and ran through the airport to gate A9. As I ran down the ramp and my gate came into view, I slowed to a walk.
With the Boston Marathon bombing, every passenger was being patted down and had their carry-ons searched. The delay had backed up all the passengers so that they filled the entire seating area. While I was waiting, I saw John and JoLene arrive.
When I was finally on the plane, I collapsed in my seat from the exhaustion of the prior hours. God must have known that I needed some space because the person in the seat beside me never showed up and the flight wasn't very crowded. John and JoLene's seats were in the same section as me, only a few rows in front of mine.
As I relaxed, I overheard some of the other passengers talking about the suspects in the bombings. One of the brothers had been killed, but the other one was on the loose and the city of Boston was on lockdown during the manhunt.
Shortly after takeoff, we were served a meal. I ended up having the same thing as my first meal flying to Africa. I watched an episode of Modern Family while I ate. I remember it was funny, but that's all. Then I read Christina's guest post (she made me promise not to read it until I was in the air). I was really tired at this point and slept for about 2 hours.
When I woke up, I watched Silver Linings Playbook. I really enjoyed it and thought the story was well done. Next I watched a film on the unique wildlife of Madagascar which was narrated by David Attenborough. I tried to sleep some more, but failed so I read continued The Fellowship of the Ring until the stewardesses served some chicken wraps. Then I watched Trouble with the Curve with Clint Eastwood, Amy Adams, and Justin Timberlake. It was okay. Then I rewatched Skyfall because none of the other movies looked good (I almost chose The Hangover Pt. II, but passed on it at the last second.).
After Skyfall was over, there was an announcement that breakfast would soon be served. I took a short nap until the lights came on and breakfast was served. I chose the French toast option, but soon regretted it as the "French toast" was horrendous and I had to force myself to eat it.
I tried to fall asleep again, but couldn't with the taste in my mouth. I ended up reading more of The Fellowship of the Ring until it was announced that we would be making the descent into JFK. As we descended, many different emotions flowed through me. Excitement to see everyone in the States again. Sadness that Christina and Africa were a whole world away. I've heard it said that once you get the African dirt in your shoes, it's impossible to get it out. This is definitely a true statement. It felt like I had left a piece of my heart in Africa.
We touched down and taxied to the arrival gate. I patiently waited my turn and finally was able to exit the plane. Once in the airport, I hustled to catch up to John and JoLene. We got to immigrations and stood in a long queue. We exchanged stories about our experiences in the weeks we were separated. They had spent a week with Steve and Chris in Beira and had gotten to experience a rural church service in the bush. The last week they spent visiting a family friend in South Africa.
As we got closer to the immigrations desk, we noticed two televisions showing CNN. We learned that the second bombing suspect had been apprehended alive.
Eventually we made it to the front of the queue and through immigrations. It was almost foreign for me to be greeted in English and to carry on a conversation with a stranger. The official stamped my passport and I moved on to the baggage claim.
At the conveyor, I stood and searched for my bags, but didn't see them. John and JoLene came and found theirs, but mine still hadn't shown up. I searched some more, including some bags on the ground around the conveyor, but I still didn't see them.
When I got back to where I started, John was talking with an airport official about my situation. She directed me to a desk to file a claim. The man at the desk was very courteous (this should be a requirement for anyone in this type of position) who was able to confirm that my bags were still in Johannesburg. He filed my claim and explained that once my bags arrived in New York, they would be shipped to my house. He also gave me a notice to take through customs.
The customs man saw that I had lost my bags and let me through no questions asked. It didn't look like they were checking very many people's luggage which was surprising considering the hassle in Johannesburg.
I found John and JoLene waiting for me and explained the situation. We then proceeded to the AirTran. We boarded and road it to where the rental cars were. We caught a shuttle to Enterprise. Our car only had 7 miles on it to begin with, so it was safe to say we would put many multiples of that original mileage on the car before we arrived back in Central Pennsylvania.
Though the drive home took around 4 hours, it seemed to fly by after being on the plane for 16 ½ hours. I passed the time by reading and viewing the familiar Pennsylvania scenery which almost seemed new to me. John and JoLene dropped me off at my house a little after 1:00 pm. I was back.
My African adventure was over.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Thursday, 18 April: Last Full Day
Today we headed back to Masana for the last time. Once again we took a chapa to get there. Both Christina and I thought that today was another soccer day, so we were surprised to find out it was another beach day instead. This meant I had worn my shoes instead of flip flops. On the ride to the beach, we learned about the explosion at the fertilizer plant in Texas.
At the beach, I took my shoes and socks off to go onto the beach. Fortunately I didn't cut my feet when I walked across the broken bottles and rusty bottle caps.
I spent a lot of time playing with some of the boys. They had a tennis ball and a pair of plastic rackets. After that Christina and I helped to bury three of the boys in the sand. They thoroughly enjoyed this.
Since we weren't prepared for the beach, we decided to get out of the sun for a while. There was a low cement wall where we sat and watched a couple of the older boys play checkers. Their version of checkers is much different than what I was used to. You could jump an opponent's piece both forwards and backwards at any time. You were also required to jump a piece if you could. This was helpful for setting up ambushes. If you moved your piece to the opposite side and got kinged, it could jump multiple spaces (similar to a bishop in chess) and capture more than one piece at a time.
A fight broke out between one of the boys playing and another boy who provoked him. It was broken up by the leaders. This was another reminder of the violent reality these boys live with day-in and day-out.
We returned to Masana. Then Christina and I left early. Sonia had left a message for Christina asking her to pick up the kids since she didn't think Hasse and she would be back in time.
We said our goodbyes to the boys. It was especially hard for me to say goodbye to boy who liked playing with my watch (unfortunately I never learned his name despite asking a couple times). He understood English enough to know that I wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. He gave me one of the biggest hugs for being such a little guy (It rivaled the hug Christina had given me at the airport!).
Masana was really an eye-opening experience for me. When Christina told me that she had scheduled for me to work with the street kids for the entire week, I was skeptical at first. It really took me out of my comfort zone to be around these boys, especially given my limited knowledge of Portuguese. This made it harder to build any sort of relationship with them. This is why I took a special interest in teaching the boy who was interested in my watch how to work it.
Christina is really good at taking me out of my comfort zone, and I really appreciate this about her. In the end, I learned that most of the boys are just looking for someone to take the time to play with them, let them be a kid again, and show them the love they so desperately crave.
The time at Masana was also especially meaningful for Christina too. It really served as a confirmation of her decision to apply for the job in Lesotho.
Heading back to the house, we got onto the most crowded chapa we had ridden on all week. There were easily more than 15 people crammed inside. Since we were going to one of the last stops, we had to get off multiple times to let others out.
Back at the house we ate leftovers for lunch. We also watched the video of the explosion at the fertilizer plant. The explosion was ferocious and caught both of us off guard. The Perssons got back in time to pick the kids up, so Christina and I had some free time before her English lessons that evening.
We headed to the artisan park to look for some souvenirs for my family. As we entered the park, we met the lady with the leatherworking stand. Christina had befriended her the last time we were in the park and she stopped to talk with us.
After learning that I was visiting from the United States, the woman asked Christina if I was her boyfriend. She told her that we were just really good friends who have known one another since we were very young. The lady then went on to say how she often sees couples in the park who end up getting married. Christina explained that we have to marry who God wants us to marry.
In the park I had some success (though limited). I found a handbag for my sister and got some ideas for the rest of my family. Christina found a gift for her grandma that she liked better and also bought some handmade reed postcards. We then headed back to the house to drop off the stuff we bought.
Christina had to go to the English lesson she was teaching at her church. Since it was her first one, she wouldn't let me come to it. Instead, she challenged me to go on a walk by myself through Maputo. As we walked to her church, she directed me to the Avenida Eduardo Mondlane and gave me a goal of reaching a certain mosque.
We parted ways and I began my solo venture. The mosque wasn't that far and I reached it after only 10 minutes. I thought it would be farther so I continued walking. I made it to Avenida Vladmir Lenin (The streets in Maputo are named after socialist leaders from all over the world.). Then I turned around and headed back to the house. The entire walk took me around an hour.
The most interesting part of my walk (other than almost being run over in the stampede to get on the bus at the bus stop) was witnessing the door of a chapa falling off its hinges while driving down the road. Fortunately no one fell out of it since it was full of people.
Back at the house I spent some time journaling and relaxing while I waited for Christina to return from her lesson. She returned with Max, one of the members of the worship team. We decided to go to Mundo's and were joined by Valesia (the Mozambican living in the Perssons' house) and the Swedish contingency (a group of Swedes from the Perssons' organization we all there).
Mundo's was super busy since it was Thursday night (it was trivia night) and we waited a long time to get a table. When we finally got one the service was good, until we needed to get the check. In all, we spent nearly two and a half hours there. We returned back to the house and went straight to bed.
At the beach, I took my shoes and socks off to go onto the beach. Fortunately I didn't cut my feet when I walked across the broken bottles and rusty bottle caps.
I spent a lot of time playing with some of the boys. They had a tennis ball and a pair of plastic rackets. After that Christina and I helped to bury three of the boys in the sand. They thoroughly enjoyed this.
 |
| Me eating my "lunch" from our previous trip to the beach. |
A fight broke out between one of the boys playing and another boy who provoked him. It was broken up by the leaders. This was another reminder of the violent reality these boys live with day-in and day-out.
We returned to Masana. Then Christina and I left early. Sonia had left a message for Christina asking her to pick up the kids since she didn't think Hasse and she would be back in time.
We said our goodbyes to the boys. It was especially hard for me to say goodbye to boy who liked playing with my watch (unfortunately I never learned his name despite asking a couple times). He understood English enough to know that I wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. He gave me one of the biggest hugs for being such a little guy (It rivaled the hug Christina had given me at the airport!).
Masana was really an eye-opening experience for me. When Christina told me that she had scheduled for me to work with the street kids for the entire week, I was skeptical at first. It really took me out of my comfort zone to be around these boys, especially given my limited knowledge of Portuguese. This made it harder to build any sort of relationship with them. This is why I took a special interest in teaching the boy who was interested in my watch how to work it.
Christina is really good at taking me out of my comfort zone, and I really appreciate this about her. In the end, I learned that most of the boys are just looking for someone to take the time to play with them, let them be a kid again, and show them the love they so desperately crave.
The time at Masana was also especially meaningful for Christina too. It really served as a confirmation of her decision to apply for the job in Lesotho.
Heading back to the house, we got onto the most crowded chapa we had ridden on all week. There were easily more than 15 people crammed inside. Since we were going to one of the last stops, we had to get off multiple times to let others out.
Back at the house we ate leftovers for lunch. We also watched the video of the explosion at the fertilizer plant. The explosion was ferocious and caught both of us off guard. The Perssons got back in time to pick the kids up, so Christina and I had some free time before her English lessons that evening.
We headed to the artisan park to look for some souvenirs for my family. As we entered the park, we met the lady with the leatherworking stand. Christina had befriended her the last time we were in the park and she stopped to talk with us.
 |
| Christina and Mama Julieta. |
In the park I had some success (though limited). I found a handbag for my sister and got some ideas for the rest of my family. Christina found a gift for her grandma that she liked better and also bought some handmade reed postcards. We then headed back to the house to drop off the stuff we bought.
Christina had to go to the English lesson she was teaching at her church. Since it was her first one, she wouldn't let me come to it. Instead, she challenged me to go on a walk by myself through Maputo. As we walked to her church, she directed me to the Avenida Eduardo Mondlane and gave me a goal of reaching a certain mosque.
We parted ways and I began my solo venture. The mosque wasn't that far and I reached it after only 10 minutes. I thought it would be farther so I continued walking. I made it to Avenida Vladmir Lenin (The streets in Maputo are named after socialist leaders from all over the world.). Then I turned around and headed back to the house. The entire walk took me around an hour.
The most interesting part of my walk (other than almost being run over in the stampede to get on the bus at the bus stop) was witnessing the door of a chapa falling off its hinges while driving down the road. Fortunately no one fell out of it since it was full of people.
Back at the house I spent some time journaling and relaxing while I waited for Christina to return from her lesson. She returned with Max, one of the members of the worship team. We decided to go to Mundo's and were joined by Valesia (the Mozambican living in the Perssons' house) and the Swedish contingency (a group of Swedes from the Perssons' organization we all there).
Mundo's was super busy since it was Thursday night (it was trivia night) and we waited a long time to get a table. When we finally got one the service was good, until we needed to get the check. In all, we spent nearly two and a half hours there. We returned back to the house and went straight to bed.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Wednesday, 17 April: Getting Cultured
Today, two of Christina's friends, Vanessa and Cecilia, were joining us to go to Masana. They were both Argentinian. Since they would be four of us going, Christina called a cab. The operator had a hard time understanding the house number and she had to repeat it numerous times. Fortunately the cab driver showed up on time.
When we got to Masana, one of the boys had a book that was in Portuguese. He was showing us his reading skills. Then he handed the book to Christina for her to read from it. She did very well. Next, he handed it to me. Needless to say, Christina and he were both laughing by the end of the first sentence from my mispronunciations.
On Wednesdays, a lady brings games to Masana for the boys to play. The first game she had was a game where the boys formed into two teams. One person from each team was blindfolded and had to draw something. Then a winner was chosen.
Next, they played a game similar to Duck-Duck-Goose, but was the exact opposite (Confusing? Now you know how I felt trying to play it.). They had a certain saying they would say and the person it ended on got to choose someone to leave the circle. Despite not having a clue what was going on, I almost won the first time. The second time the boys made sure I was one of the first ones out.
The final game involved standing in a circle and tossing a ball to someone else. If they dropped the ball, they were out. Eventually two other balls were adding to make it more difficult. I don't want to brag, but I won this game easily.
After the organized games, the kids had free time. Most of them used the balls from the lady to play soccer or a form of volleyball. I ended up playing volleyball with a couple of the boys. Later I moved on to soccer with the boy who I had taught to work the alarm on my watch.
It started to get hot, so I sat down at one of the tables under the roof. The boy who I was playing with decided to play a game where he tossed the ball to me and I had to head it back to him. We played this game for quite a long time and Christina was impressed with my "hidden" talent, or at least until I headed one right into her face by accident. The boy enjoyed this; Christina didn't.
Christina had an English lesson scheduled with her pastor that afternoon, so she called the cab company and we left before lunch. Back at the house, Christina and I ate lunch and then she worked on her lesson. A little while later, she got a call from the pastor saying she couldn't meet today. This freed up our afternoon.
Katie called Christina to see if we wanted to join her mom (who was visiting) and her to see a movie at the Centro Cultural Franco-Moçambicano (French-Mozambican Intercultural Centre). We decided to take them up on the offer. We concluded that we could also get our picture taken with the Morrisons Cove Herald (The Herald is our local newspaper. People submit photos taken with the Herald when they travel. The paper prints the picture in a special feature called "The Traveling Herald".).
Christina wanted to give me a real African experience so we took a txopela (pron. "sho-pella". Also called a chapalana (pron. "chop-ah-lah-nah") in Beira.). A txopela is basically a scooter pulling a rickshaw. Riding in one can be quite thrilling and a bit dangerous with the crazy Maputo traffic. You can get a better idea of what riding in one looks like by watching this video. The driver wasn't quite sure where the Centre was and neither was Christina, but we found it relatively easily.
We arrived at the Centre before Katie and her mom got there so we viewed the current exhibit. It was on the architecture of Maputo. A couple artists and art students made models of different buildings from throughout the city. It was fun for both of us as we recognized buildings that we knew.
When Katie and her mom arrived, we got seats in the theater. The movie we are going to see was part of Semana de Cinema Africano de Maputo 2013 (Maputo's African film festival). We saved some seats and then asked Katie if she would take our picture with the Herald in the circle outside the Centre. This roundabout had a large statue of Samora Machel, Mozambique's first president. Katie was a good photographer and we got a few different pictures we liked.
After the movie, Christina and I caught another txopela to her church for their Wednesday evening service at 6:00 pm. The service started with some singing and sharing of testimonies by people from the congregation. Then two missionaries from Brazil gave the main message. One of the ladies in the church sat between Christina and me and translated for us. The missionaries dragged on and on and didn't end until 8:30 pm. Afterwards, the lady who lives in the other apartment in the Perssons' house walked us back to the house so it was safer.
We got back and realized how hungry we were. We started dinner by making eggs and toast and somehow ended up with a feast of papayas, mangoes, avocados, hummus, tomatoes, and passion fruit. Papayas aren't the best tasting fruit when eaten on their own. Christina compares the taste to that of a fart (don't ask me how she knows what a fart tastes like). Fortunately, this papaya tasted slightly better and only tasted like half a fart.
The real treat of the feast for me was dessert. Christina brought me a mango pop she had made for the Perssons' kids. This was the most heavenly thing I've ever eaten. The frozen mango purée had a hint of coconut which sent my taste buds into ecstasy.
After our meal, it was time it was time for bed.
When we got to Masana, one of the boys had a book that was in Portuguese. He was showing us his reading skills. Then he handed the book to Christina for her to read from it. She did very well. Next, he handed it to me. Needless to say, Christina and he were both laughing by the end of the first sentence from my mispronunciations.
On Wednesdays, a lady brings games to Masana for the boys to play. The first game she had was a game where the boys formed into two teams. One person from each team was blindfolded and had to draw something. Then a winner was chosen.
 |
| Making sure the boys don't cheat. |
The final game involved standing in a circle and tossing a ball to someone else. If they dropped the ball, they were out. Eventually two other balls were adding to make it more difficult. I don't want to brag, but I won this game easily.
After the organized games, the kids had free time. Most of them used the balls from the lady to play soccer or a form of volleyball. I ended up playing volleyball with a couple of the boys. Later I moved on to soccer with the boy who I had taught to work the alarm on my watch.
It started to get hot, so I sat down at one of the tables under the roof. The boy who I was playing with decided to play a game where he tossed the ball to me and I had to head it back to him. We played this game for quite a long time and Christina was impressed with my "hidden" talent, or at least until I headed one right into her face by accident. The boy enjoyed this; Christina didn't.
Christina had an English lesson scheduled with her pastor that afternoon, so she called the cab company and we left before lunch. Back at the house, Christina and I ate lunch and then she worked on her lesson. A little while later, she got a call from the pastor saying she couldn't meet today. This freed up our afternoon.
Katie called Christina to see if we wanted to join her mom (who was visiting) and her to see a movie at the Centro Cultural Franco-Moçambicano (French-Mozambican Intercultural Centre). We decided to take them up on the offer. We concluded that we could also get our picture taken with the Morrisons Cove Herald (The Herald is our local newspaper. People submit photos taken with the Herald when they travel. The paper prints the picture in a special feature called "The Traveling Herald".).
Christina wanted to give me a real African experience so we took a txopela (pron. "sho-pella". Also called a chapalana (pron. "chop-ah-lah-nah") in Beira.). A txopela is basically a scooter pulling a rickshaw. Riding in one can be quite thrilling and a bit dangerous with the crazy Maputo traffic. You can get a better idea of what riding in one looks like by watching this video. The driver wasn't quite sure where the Centre was and neither was Christina, but we found it relatively easily.
 |
| A typical txopela. |
When Katie and her mom arrived, we got seats in the theater. The movie we are going to see was part of Semana de Cinema Africano de Maputo 2013 (Maputo's African film festival). We saved some seats and then asked Katie if she would take our picture with the Herald in the circle outside the Centre. This roundabout had a large statue of Samora Machel, Mozambique's first president. Katie was a good photographer and we got a few different pictures we liked.
 |
| Not a bad picture! |
 |
| The final picture we chose. Katie was a great photographer! |
We returned to the auditorium to watch the film. It was called Man on Ground. It reminded me a lot of a Denzel Washington movie. The main actor sort of looked like him and had his mannerisms down to a tee. The film was about two Nigerian expats, one in the United Kingdom and the other in South Africa. The basic gist of the plot was the brother from the United Kingdom goes to South Africa to try to find his brother who is missing. He learns that his brother has been killed in riots over foreigners taking free housing that was supposed to be for black South Africans by paying money. The film was confusing because it was short with a lot of random flashbacks and the viewer doesn't really know what's going on until the very end. However, visually the cinematography was very well done. There were a lot of interesting camera shots, but at times it felt like the cameraman tried to use every technique and trick he knew in one movie.
After the movie, Christina and I caught another txopela to her church for their Wednesday evening service at 6:00 pm. The service started with some singing and sharing of testimonies by people from the congregation. Then two missionaries from Brazil gave the main message. One of the ladies in the church sat between Christina and me and translated for us. The missionaries dragged on and on and didn't end until 8:30 pm. Afterwards, the lady who lives in the other apartment in the Perssons' house walked us back to the house so it was safer.
We got back and realized how hungry we were. We started dinner by making eggs and toast and somehow ended up with a feast of papayas, mangoes, avocados, hummus, tomatoes, and passion fruit. Papayas aren't the best tasting fruit when eaten on their own. Christina compares the taste to that of a fart (don't ask me how she knows what a fart tastes like). Fortunately, this papaya tasted slightly better and only tasted like half a fart.
The real treat of the feast for me was dessert. Christina brought me a mango pop she had made for the Perssons' kids. This was the most heavenly thing I've ever eaten. The frozen mango purée had a hint of coconut which sent my taste buds into ecstasy.
After our meal, it was time it was time for bed.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Tuesday, 16 April: The Beach
We decided to leave for Masana at the same time as the day before, but today we would take a chapa. We got there shortly before their singing and tea time began. The activity for the day was going to a beach slightly north of Maputo. All of the boys were given new "bikini" underwear to wear at the beach. Many of the boys enjoyed wearing them on their heads which gave us quite a laugh. Once everyone was dressed, we piled into the two vehicles owned by Masana.
The boys had a blast at the beach. The staff brought along a beach ball, 2 soccer balls, and 2 kites for the kids to play with. The boys also enjoyed playing with the animals they found on the beach which included hermit crabs, tiny regular crabs, and a starfish (about the size of a 50 cent piece).
One of the older boys found a large hermit crab and built a house to keep it in. He used an empty bottle he found to bring water from the ocean for the crab. Eventually he dug a trench and a small door so water came in on its own. He named the hermit crab, Diana, after one of the workers at Masana.
Christina was having fun playing with one of the tiny crabs that I was holding in my hands. She would poke it in the eye, and the eye-stalk would drop to the side. I thought this was probably annoying to the crab and it didn't like this very much so one time when she poked it, I pretended the crab pinched me. Her reaction was priceless. I found it funny, but I don’t think she was as amused as I was.
A little while later I brought Christina a surprise in my hands. I made her close her eyes while I put it in her hand. Then I told her to open her eyes. It was a tiny dead fish. Again, she wasn't as amused as I was (but it was worth it :) ).
About this time, one of the leaders near us noticed that the beach ball had gotten away from the boys. We watched as it sailed away to be a present for some fisherman's kids.
Some of the older boys were kicking a soccer ball back and forth. Then two of the younger boys got the other soccer ball, drew a pitch in the sand, and began playing a 1-on-1 game.
Meanwhile, the other boys drew pictures or made other art in the sand. The funniest piece was a toilet that one of the kids made (he converted the house of Diana the hermit crab for the bowl). A lot of the boys practiced writing their names in the sand. One of them made a heart that said, "I love Africa" inside of it. Christina took a picture of the piece along with the artist. This started a series of pictures since all the boys wanted their pictures taken, especially the younger ones.
The sun was really beating down on us so Christina and I decided to sit in the shade. While we were relaxing there, some of the younger kids brought us "lunch". Our "lunch" consisted of rotten fish skeletons and sandy, dried lemon halves which they found among the trash on the beach. Yum!
Soon it was time to head back to Masana. Everyone piled back into the cars. Ian, one of the leaders, drove a new truck that had just been donated by a church in the United States. Diana (the actual Diana, not the hermit crab version) took a picture of all the boys piled in the bed of the truck to send to the church as a thank you.
When we arrived back at Masana, there was some down time. One of the boys was really interested in my watch so I taught him how to work the alarm. I was surprisingly successful even with my limited knowledge of Portuguese. In case you’re curious, my instructions were, "Aqui, dois. Aqui. Aqui. Muito bom!" (“Here, twice. Here. Here. Very good!”) In addition to setting the timer, he also enjoyed counting down from 20, “Vinte…dezenove…dezoito… dezessete…dezesseis…quinze…catorze…treze…doze…onze…dez…nove…oito…sete…seis…cinco…quarto… três…dois…um.”
After a while the leaders called all the boys to gather around the tables. They had a time of singing and a short Bible lesson. During the lesson, many of the boys were tired and started dozing off. The boy on my left was having an especially hard time staying awake despite me trying my best to keep his eyes open. One of the workers had a cup of water that he was using to splash anyone who was falling asleep. This still didn't help the boy beside me so the worker picked him up, carried him to the sink, and stuck his head under the faucet. This had a much better effect.
When the lesson was over, it was time for lunch. Christina and I weren't planning on staying, but they had extra food and asked us to stay and eat. Lunch consisted of a plate of rice with a mixture of beans and vegetables on top. Since this might be the only meal some of the boys got that day, it was hearty.
During lunch, I believe I may have had a cultural/language misunderstanding with one of the boys. While I was eating, a boy came over and sat beside me. He had two oranges with him (they were out of oranges when I went through the line, so I had zero) and set one of them on the table near to me and walked away. I thought he was offering it to me since I didn't have one. I took a slice from the orange and ate it. Then the boy came back and picked up the orange he had set by me and moved it to the other side of his plate. He said something to another of the boys and they laughed. I wasn't sure what he said. This was another disadvantage of not knowing the language.
After everyone was done eating, a water fight broke out. Almost everyone (including the staff) got soaked except Christina and me. I got hit by the edge of a wayward strike from one of the staff members directed at one of the older boys, but that was about it. When all the boys were completely soaked, the water fight ended. Christina and I took this break in the action as a good time to leave. It was already after 1:30 pm. We walked a few blocks until we were able to catch a chapa home.
Back at the house, a Mozambican lady was waiting to be let in to do some work for the Perssons. Another lady, the wife of one of the night guards also showed up. Christina worked on a cover letter for the position in Lesotho while I journaled. Christina then decided to take a nap. I was planning to take a short nap too, but ended up chatting with Zack Wilt on Facebook.
Christina got up and started preparing dinner. She didn’t need any help so I jumped in the shower. When I was done I found Christina watching Bones while our dinner was cooking. Neither of us had really watched Bones before but it was nice to watch someone in English. After the episode was over, Christina took a shower and I watched another.
When she got out, dinner was ready. She had roasted a chicken with peppers and onions. We also had some noodles. It was very delicious.
DISCLAIMER: What you are about to read may be considered by some as damaging to my manliness. If you would prefer to keep your former view of my manliness, please stop reading and wait until the next post. Otherwise, proceed at your own risk!
In addition to carrying the extra suitcase for Jonathan and Becky, I also brought a care package for Christina from her parents. The most meaningful thing was a bottle of Roaring Spring Bottled Water. We both grew up in Roaring Spring, and the water there is the best tasting water in the world.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't the most meaningful thing (although she did say she would save it for a special occasion). The most meaningful thing was probably the wedding video from her cousin Garrett's wedding.
After we had finished eating, we watched the wedding video. I’ll share a few of the highlights. There were two ring bearers. During the message, the one got bored and decided it would be fun to slide down the steps of the stage. This was quite hilarious. Unfortunately his mother didn't think so and walked up front to take him back to her seat. The other highlight was from the pastor’s message. He made a great analogy about marriage. He described that old bridges often have tiny cracks that go unnoticed until a Mack truck drives over it. Marriage is the Mack truck driving over the bridge of your heart. We enjoyed this analogy.
Despite the fact that watching a wedding video wasn't my ideal activity, I still enjoyed it. It was especially meaningful for Christina and even more so for her to be able to watch it with a friend from home.
The boys had a blast at the beach. The staff brought along a beach ball, 2 soccer balls, and 2 kites for the kids to play with. The boys also enjoyed playing with the animals they found on the beach which included hermit crabs, tiny regular crabs, and a starfish (about the size of a 50 cent piece).
One of the older boys found a large hermit crab and built a house to keep it in. He used an empty bottle he found to bring water from the ocean for the crab. Eventually he dug a trench and a small door so water came in on its own. He named the hermit crab, Diana, after one of the workers at Masana.
Christina was having fun playing with one of the tiny crabs that I was holding in my hands. She would poke it in the eye, and the eye-stalk would drop to the side. I thought this was probably annoying to the crab and it didn't like this very much so one time when she poked it, I pretended the crab pinched me. Her reaction was priceless. I found it funny, but I don’t think she was as amused as I was.
A little while later I brought Christina a surprise in my hands. I made her close her eyes while I put it in her hand. Then I told her to open her eyes. It was a tiny dead fish. Again, she wasn't as amused as I was (but it was worth it :) ).
About this time, one of the leaders near us noticed that the beach ball had gotten away from the boys. We watched as it sailed away to be a present for some fisherman's kids.
Some of the older boys were kicking a soccer ball back and forth. Then two of the younger boys got the other soccer ball, drew a pitch in the sand, and began playing a 1-on-1 game.
Meanwhile, the other boys drew pictures or made other art in the sand. The funniest piece was a toilet that one of the kids made (he converted the house of Diana the hermit crab for the bowl). A lot of the boys practiced writing their names in the sand. One of them made a heart that said, "I love Africa" inside of it. Christina took a picture of the piece along with the artist. This started a series of pictures since all the boys wanted their pictures taken, especially the younger ones.
The sun was really beating down on us so Christina and I decided to sit in the shade. While we were relaxing there, some of the younger kids brought us "lunch". Our "lunch" consisted of rotten fish skeletons and sandy, dried lemon halves which they found among the trash on the beach. Yum!
Soon it was time to head back to Masana. Everyone piled back into the cars. Ian, one of the leaders, drove a new truck that had just been donated by a church in the United States. Diana (the actual Diana, not the hermit crab version) took a picture of all the boys piled in the bed of the truck to send to the church as a thank you.
When we arrived back at Masana, there was some down time. One of the boys was really interested in my watch so I taught him how to work the alarm. I was surprisingly successful even with my limited knowledge of Portuguese. In case you’re curious, my instructions were, "Aqui, dois. Aqui. Aqui. Muito bom!" (“Here, twice. Here. Here. Very good!”) In addition to setting the timer, he also enjoyed counting down from 20, “Vinte…dezenove…dezoito… dezessete…dezesseis…quinze…catorze…treze…doze…onze…dez…nove…oito…sete…seis…cinco…quarto… três…dois…um.”
After a while the leaders called all the boys to gather around the tables. They had a time of singing and a short Bible lesson. During the lesson, many of the boys were tired and started dozing off. The boy on my left was having an especially hard time staying awake despite me trying my best to keep his eyes open. One of the workers had a cup of water that he was using to splash anyone who was falling asleep. This still didn't help the boy beside me so the worker picked him up, carried him to the sink, and stuck his head under the faucet. This had a much better effect.
When the lesson was over, it was time for lunch. Christina and I weren't planning on staying, but they had extra food and asked us to stay and eat. Lunch consisted of a plate of rice with a mixture of beans and vegetables on top. Since this might be the only meal some of the boys got that day, it was hearty.
During lunch, I believe I may have had a cultural/language misunderstanding with one of the boys. While I was eating, a boy came over and sat beside me. He had two oranges with him (they were out of oranges when I went through the line, so I had zero) and set one of them on the table near to me and walked away. I thought he was offering it to me since I didn't have one. I took a slice from the orange and ate it. Then the boy came back and picked up the orange he had set by me and moved it to the other side of his plate. He said something to another of the boys and they laughed. I wasn't sure what he said. This was another disadvantage of not knowing the language.
After everyone was done eating, a water fight broke out. Almost everyone (including the staff) got soaked except Christina and me. I got hit by the edge of a wayward strike from one of the staff members directed at one of the older boys, but that was about it. When all the boys were completely soaked, the water fight ended. Christina and I took this break in the action as a good time to leave. It was already after 1:30 pm. We walked a few blocks until we were able to catch a chapa home.
Back at the house, a Mozambican lady was waiting to be let in to do some work for the Perssons. Another lady, the wife of one of the night guards also showed up. Christina worked on a cover letter for the position in Lesotho while I journaled. Christina then decided to take a nap. I was planning to take a short nap too, but ended up chatting with Zack Wilt on Facebook.
Christina got up and started preparing dinner. She didn’t need any help so I jumped in the shower. When I was done I found Christina watching Bones while our dinner was cooking. Neither of us had really watched Bones before but it was nice to watch someone in English. After the episode was over, Christina took a shower and I watched another.
When she got out, dinner was ready. She had roasted a chicken with peppers and onions. We also had some noodles. It was very delicious.
DISCLAIMER: What you are about to read may be considered by some as damaging to my manliness. If you would prefer to keep your former view of my manliness, please stop reading and wait until the next post. Otherwise, proceed at your own risk!
In addition to carrying the extra suitcase for Jonathan and Becky, I also brought a care package for Christina from her parents. The most meaningful thing was a bottle of Roaring Spring Bottled Water. We both grew up in Roaring Spring, and the water there is the best tasting water in the world.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't the most meaningful thing (although she did say she would save it for a special occasion). The most meaningful thing was probably the wedding video from her cousin Garrett's wedding.
After we had finished eating, we watched the wedding video. I’ll share a few of the highlights. There were two ring bearers. During the message, the one got bored and decided it would be fun to slide down the steps of the stage. This was quite hilarious. Unfortunately his mother didn't think so and walked up front to take him back to her seat. The other highlight was from the pastor’s message. He made a great analogy about marriage. He described that old bridges often have tiny cracks that go unnoticed until a Mack truck drives over it. Marriage is the Mack truck driving over the bridge of your heart. We enjoyed this analogy.
Despite the fact that watching a wedding video wasn't my ideal activity, I still enjoyed it. It was especially meaningful for Christina and even more so for her to be able to watch it with a friend from home.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Monday, 15 April: Masana
Monday morning was an early start. Christina and I were going to walk to Masana. She estimated it would take us around 40 minutes to get there. We ate breakfast and left the house at 7:50 am. Exactly 40 minutes later, we arrived at Masana despite almost walking past it (Christina: "It should be somewhere around here." Me: "[pointing at the sign behind her] Like right there?"). Christina called one of the leaders who came and unlocked the gate for us.
Masana is an organization that ministers to street boys living in Maputo and focuses on rebuilding relationships between the boys and their families with the goal of one day reuniting them. Masana is a word in the local dialect Changana that means "rays of light" or "sunrise".
They open their doors at 7:00 am and stay open until 2:00 pm, providing a place for the boys (aged 12-18) to come and hang out. Masana tries to meet the boys' basic needs by providing food, showers, and schooling. They also have a few rooms that they rent out to some of the older boys.
When Christina first told me she had arranged for me to help at Masana, I wasn't quite sure what to think about it. Those who know me well know that this is definitely a place where I would be out of my comfort zone. If Christina had given me any other option, I probably would have taken the other option right away. But she didn't give me another option. I knew if I truly wanted to learn what God was trying to show me, then I had to keep myself open to it. Looking back on it, I'm so thankful that Christina "forced" me to play with the street kids (Christina, just so it's in writing, you have a gift for getting people out of their comfort zones. This is me giving you permission to force me out of my comfort zone in the future.).
We arrived at Masana during tea time, when the boys get a hot drink and a small loaf of bread. Once they were finished eating we headed to a nearby soccer field. I happened to be wearing a shirt that said "champion" on, so the boys took that to mean I was really good at soccer (ironically I was wearing a hockey shirt). Christina also perpetuated that rumor since she wanted to see me play.
Now this is usually the part of the story where the athletic American gets schooled by boys, but you'll have to read someone else's journal to find such a tale. I don't want to brag, but I did a little better than hold my own. I think the boys were used to Westerners joining them and they didn't really guard me. That changed fairly quickly after I scored a hat trick in the 1st half. From that point on I found myself being marked on every play. I was done scoring anyways and tried to get the ball to some of the younger boys on my team. I also learned that I have a knack for getting the ball to teammates in traffic. One such ball gave one of the younger boys a really nice goal.
Defense was a different story. Many of the older boys were very skilled at dribbling. The loose dirt of the field made it even more difficult to recover if you lost your balance. Luckily, my offense helped to make up for my lack of defense.
After the soccer game, we walked back to Masana. There Christina and I hung out with the kids. A few of the younger ones were really interested in our watches. Fortunately they were Timex's so they could take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. The boys were really interesting in the timer feature since they could watch it count down and then beep.
Around noon, we headed back to the house. It was much hotter now and we didn't feel like walking the whole way back so we caught a chapa. It was quite a different experience being on the inside of one instead of trying to avoid being run over by one while crossing the street.
Back at the house I got a much needed shower and change of clothes. For lunch, Christina made hummus and we had sandwiches. We talked about her time so far in Maputo and some of the highs and lows of her year.
After lunch, we went to an ATM so I could get some meticais. Then we headed to one of the local parks where art vendors have stands to sell their wares. I was scoping out some souvenirs to take home for my family. I didn't buy anything, but Christina bought a bowl for her grandma who collects bowls for all over the world. We also made friends with a lady who does leather craft.
On the way back to the house, we stopped to buy fresh fruit and vegetables. We were both tired from the long day and took a nap. I got up around 5:00 pm and journaled while Christina took care of some other things.
On Monday nights, Christina and her friends I met at lunch have a Bible study at Katie's apartment. Christina got a call that Katie had ordered pizza and we were to bring it with us when we came. In the meantime, I showed Christina the pictures I had taken.
When the pizzas were ready to be picked up, we walked to the pizza shop and then got a taxi to Katie's apartment. At one point on our taxi ride, Christina starting singing something. The driver must not have liked it because he turned the volume on the radio up. I told her it didn't matter because I liked her singing.
At Katie's apartment building, we climbed the stairs to the top floor. The stairway was dark. Fortunately, Christina had her phone to use as a flashlight. Unfortunately, this also showed all the cockroaches. When we got to Katie's door on the 4th floor, she opened it before we had a chance to ring the doorbell.
We went inside and were surprised to find Melanie was still there (she had to stay another day). It was interesting running into Melanie again since I didn't think I'd ever see her again. Judith showed up a bit later.
During dinner, Melanie and Katie talked about their interesting day and why Melanie was stay in Maputo. She was in town to meet someone, but that person hadn't scheduled enough time with their other meetings. Now Melanie had to reschedule her flight to stay another day.
In addition to this problem, Katie and she had to deal with another crisis. A young lady working for another missions organization was making an emergency trip to Tete. To get there she had to fly into Maputo then transfer to Tete where her friends would help her get a visa. She had done this trip before without any problems. This time, however, the immigration official in Maputo forced her to get a visa there. The lady didn't have any local currency. The official said she was going to be put in jail. The stress of this on top of her original situation was unbearable. Somehow she got Melanie's phone number and called her for help.
Eating and relieving the stress of the day took a long time so a Bible study never happened, but the fellowship was still beneficial for everyone. We left around 9:15 pm and got a ride home with Judith.
Back at the house, I got online to check Facebook. It was at this time that we learned there had been explosions at the Boston Marathon. At the time, no other information was released except that there were explosions and fatalities as a result.
We went to bed at 10:00 pm which was much better than 12:30 am from the night before.
Masana is an organization that ministers to street boys living in Maputo and focuses on rebuilding relationships between the boys and their families with the goal of one day reuniting them. Masana is a word in the local dialect Changana that means "rays of light" or "sunrise".
They open their doors at 7:00 am and stay open until 2:00 pm, providing a place for the boys (aged 12-18) to come and hang out. Masana tries to meet the boys' basic needs by providing food, showers, and schooling. They also have a few rooms that they rent out to some of the older boys.
When Christina first told me she had arranged for me to help at Masana, I wasn't quite sure what to think about it. Those who know me well know that this is definitely a place where I would be out of my comfort zone. If Christina had given me any other option, I probably would have taken the other option right away. But she didn't give me another option. I knew if I truly wanted to learn what God was trying to show me, then I had to keep myself open to it. Looking back on it, I'm so thankful that Christina "forced" me to play with the street kids (Christina, just so it's in writing, you have a gift for getting people out of their comfort zones. This is me giving you permission to force me out of my comfort zone in the future.).
We arrived at Masana during tea time, when the boys get a hot drink and a small loaf of bread. Once they were finished eating we headed to a nearby soccer field. I happened to be wearing a shirt that said "champion" on, so the boys took that to mean I was really good at soccer (ironically I was wearing a hockey shirt). Christina also perpetuated that rumor since she wanted to see me play.
Now this is usually the part of the story where the athletic American gets schooled by boys, but you'll have to read someone else's journal to find such a tale. I don't want to brag, but I did a little better than hold my own. I think the boys were used to Westerners joining them and they didn't really guard me. That changed fairly quickly after I scored a hat trick in the 1st half. From that point on I found myself being marked on every play. I was done scoring anyways and tried to get the ball to some of the younger boys on my team. I also learned that I have a knack for getting the ball to teammates in traffic. One such ball gave one of the younger boys a really nice goal.
Defense was a different story. Many of the older boys were very skilled at dribbling. The loose dirt of the field made it even more difficult to recover if you lost your balance. Luckily, my offense helped to make up for my lack of defense.
After the soccer game, we walked back to Masana. There Christina and I hung out with the kids. A few of the younger ones were really interested in our watches. Fortunately they were Timex's so they could take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. The boys were really interesting in the timer feature since they could watch it count down and then beep.
Around noon, we headed back to the house. It was much hotter now and we didn't feel like walking the whole way back so we caught a chapa. It was quite a different experience being on the inside of one instead of trying to avoid being run over by one while crossing the street.
Back at the house I got a much needed shower and change of clothes. For lunch, Christina made hummus and we had sandwiches. We talked about her time so far in Maputo and some of the highs and lows of her year.
After lunch, we went to an ATM so I could get some meticais. Then we headed to one of the local parks where art vendors have stands to sell their wares. I was scoping out some souvenirs to take home for my family. I didn't buy anything, but Christina bought a bowl for her grandma who collects bowls for all over the world. We also made friends with a lady who does leather craft.
On the way back to the house, we stopped to buy fresh fruit and vegetables. We were both tired from the long day and took a nap. I got up around 5:00 pm and journaled while Christina took care of some other things.
On Monday nights, Christina and her friends I met at lunch have a Bible study at Katie's apartment. Christina got a call that Katie had ordered pizza and we were to bring it with us when we came. In the meantime, I showed Christina the pictures I had taken.
When the pizzas were ready to be picked up, we walked to the pizza shop and then got a taxi to Katie's apartment. At one point on our taxi ride, Christina starting singing something. The driver must not have liked it because he turned the volume on the radio up. I told her it didn't matter because I liked her singing.
At Katie's apartment building, we climbed the stairs to the top floor. The stairway was dark. Fortunately, Christina had her phone to use as a flashlight. Unfortunately, this also showed all the cockroaches. When we got to Katie's door on the 4th floor, she opened it before we had a chance to ring the doorbell.
We went inside and were surprised to find Melanie was still there (she had to stay another day). It was interesting running into Melanie again since I didn't think I'd ever see her again. Judith showed up a bit later.
During dinner, Melanie and Katie talked about their interesting day and why Melanie was stay in Maputo. She was in town to meet someone, but that person hadn't scheduled enough time with their other meetings. Now Melanie had to reschedule her flight to stay another day.
In addition to this problem, Katie and she had to deal with another crisis. A young lady working for another missions organization was making an emergency trip to Tete. To get there she had to fly into Maputo then transfer to Tete where her friends would help her get a visa. She had done this trip before without any problems. This time, however, the immigration official in Maputo forced her to get a visa there. The lady didn't have any local currency. The official said she was going to be put in jail. The stress of this on top of her original situation was unbearable. Somehow she got Melanie's phone number and called her for help.
Eating and relieving the stress of the day took a long time so a Bible study never happened, but the fellowship was still beneficial for everyone. We left around 9:15 pm and got a ride home with Judith.
Back at the house, I got online to check Facebook. It was at this time that we learned there had been explosions at the Boston Marathon. At the time, no other information was released except that there were explosions and fatalities as a result.
We went to bed at 10:00 pm which was much better than 12:30 am from the night before.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Sunday, 14 April: Sunday in Maputo
I woke up at 8:00 am. We weren't leaving until 9:40 am, so I was able to take my time eating breakfast and getting ready. During this time I got to meet Hasse and Sonia. Hasse is originally from Sweden and Sonia is Mozambican. They met in Portugal and then got married in Sweden.
Christina and I walked to her church, Primeira Igreja Baptista Renovada Em Maputo. Baptista Renovada is a Portuguese-speaking church that the Perssons have been helping with leadership training. We arrived early so we could get seats inside where I would be able to see the PowerPoint for worship. The service here was different than the one at Mascarenha in Beira. It was distinctly Mozambican, but stylistically was closer to a modern Western service.
Most of the service was in Portuguese with someone translating it into English. I found the singing fascinating. It was very lively and with the words on the screen, I was able to understand some of what was being sung with the help of Christina. The real treat for me was when they sang This Is The Air I Breathe in Portuguese. I was able to sing along in English. It really helped me to worship in the midst of everything new around me.
During the singing, it became unbearably hot since everyone was crammed in the building dancing and moving around. I felt like I was going to pass out, but fortunately, they turned on the air conditioners and the temperature dropped to a less uncomfortable temperature.
After the worship team was done playing, the pastor (a Mozambican woman) did a baby dedication. It was funny because she apparently called out the husband, a member at the church, for not attending more often.
Next, Hasse preached the sermon. He preached in English and someone translated it into Portuguese. The sermon was on the power of prayer. It dragged on a little bit, but it was still good. The service ended around 12:30 pm.
After church, we headed back to Christina's house to change. As we were heading out the door to go to lunch, we were met by two Swedes coming in the door. We learned that Niklas and Linnea, a young married couple in their earlier 20s, would also be staying in the house while they were in they from Vilanculos (pron. "vil-lahn-coo-loosh").
For lunch, Christina and I met some of her friends at Mundo's, one of the restaurants near where she lives. When we arrived, her friends, Katie and Judith, were waiting for us. Katie works for MCC and was interested to learn that I knew Melanie and the Newcomers (cue the It's a Small World music). Melanie would actually be in Maputo later in the evening but was only staying for a short while. Judith left to pick up another one of their friends who worked for the World Bank. Lunch was probably better than I thought it was, but I had been spoiled so far on my trip.
After lunch Christina gave me a tour of Maputo. Our first stop was a soccer field where some of the guys from church were playing in a league against another church. I've always enjoyed soccer and it was a lot of fun watching this game. And, as an added bonus, our team won 2-0!
Next we walked towards the ocean. We talked about our individual journeys to missions and our future plans. Christina had applied to a couple of different missions organizations in Southern Africa. The one she was really hoping for was with MCC in the country of Lesotho (pron. "le-soo-too"), a small enclave inside of South Africa. It was a 3-year position working with families suffering from HIV and AIDS.
We walked along the ridge overlooking the ocean. When we got to the end of the Jardin dos Namorados, one of the larger parks in Maputo, we turned around and headed back to her house.
Later that evening, we joined Niklas and Linnea to go get ice cream. On the way we stopped at a mall to find an energy drink for Niklas. He was going to Mikael's later that night to watch an NHL game. One of the players was making his NHL debut for the Nashville Predators and the game was airing at 1:30 am Maputo time. When we stopped at the ice cream place, I only got a single scoop cone since I was still full from lunch.
We finished eating our ice cream and headed back to the house. There we tried playing Mad Gabs, but we learned after a few minutes that this was next to impossible for the Swedes since many were American pop culture topics. Christina also Skyped with her dad, Paul. I talked with Paul a little too and let him know that his daughter was treating me alright.
One of Christina's friends came over and we talked with him for a while. He was able to point out on a map where Masana (pron. "mah-sah-nah"), the organization Christina and I were going to the next morning, was at in the city. He stayed a little longer while his phone charged before leaving.
Christina and I talked some more. She was curious to hear how my trip was affecting my future in missions. I told her that this trip had really been an affirmation that I was supposed to be doing missions. She asked if I felt I was being called to a job in administration like I currently was, or if I felt like I was being called to serve overseas. I wasn't sure so I said so, but that this trip had really given me the sense that I could if God wanted me to.
She followed by asking which region God might be calling me to. I said I was open to serving wherever, but I have always had a passion for Southern Africa and never knew why. She was very excited to hear this. Our conversation was also interrupted numerous times by her giggling and saying, "Sam Williams is in my house in Maputo!" She was very excited I was there, but it was weird to her because I "was out of my context".
We also talked some more about Lesotho. I said that if she got the job I'd have to make the trip to visit her there. This part of the conversation was eerily reminiscent of the ones we had prior to her leaving for Mozambique, and we all know how that turned out!
Our talk lasted until around 12:30 am when we realized how late it was and went to bed.
Christina and I walked to her church, Primeira Igreja Baptista Renovada Em Maputo. Baptista Renovada is a Portuguese-speaking church that the Perssons have been helping with leadership training. We arrived early so we could get seats inside where I would be able to see the PowerPoint for worship. The service here was different than the one at Mascarenha in Beira. It was distinctly Mozambican, but stylistically was closer to a modern Western service.
Most of the service was in Portuguese with someone translating it into English. I found the singing fascinating. It was very lively and with the words on the screen, I was able to understand some of what was being sung with the help of Christina. The real treat for me was when they sang This Is The Air I Breathe in Portuguese. I was able to sing along in English. It really helped me to worship in the midst of everything new around me.
During the singing, it became unbearably hot since everyone was crammed in the building dancing and moving around. I felt like I was going to pass out, but fortunately, they turned on the air conditioners and the temperature dropped to a less uncomfortable temperature.
After the worship team was done playing, the pastor (a Mozambican woman) did a baby dedication. It was funny because she apparently called out the husband, a member at the church, for not attending more often.
Next, Hasse preached the sermon. He preached in English and someone translated it into Portuguese. The sermon was on the power of prayer. It dragged on a little bit, but it was still good. The service ended around 12:30 pm.
After church, we headed back to Christina's house to change. As we were heading out the door to go to lunch, we were met by two Swedes coming in the door. We learned that Niklas and Linnea, a young married couple in their earlier 20s, would also be staying in the house while they were in they from Vilanculos (pron. "vil-lahn-coo-loosh").
For lunch, Christina and I met some of her friends at Mundo's, one of the restaurants near where she lives. When we arrived, her friends, Katie and Judith, were waiting for us. Katie works for MCC and was interested to learn that I knew Melanie and the Newcomers (cue the It's a Small World music). Melanie would actually be in Maputo later in the evening but was only staying for a short while. Judith left to pick up another one of their friends who worked for the World Bank. Lunch was probably better than I thought it was, but I had been spoiled so far on my trip.
After lunch Christina gave me a tour of Maputo. Our first stop was a soccer field where some of the guys from church were playing in a league against another church. I've always enjoyed soccer and it was a lot of fun watching this game. And, as an added bonus, our team won 2-0!
Next we walked towards the ocean. We talked about our individual journeys to missions and our future plans. Christina had applied to a couple of different missions organizations in Southern Africa. The one she was really hoping for was with MCC in the country of Lesotho (pron. "le-soo-too"), a small enclave inside of South Africa. It was a 3-year position working with families suffering from HIV and AIDS.
We walked along the ridge overlooking the ocean. When we got to the end of the Jardin dos Namorados, one of the larger parks in Maputo, we turned around and headed back to her house.
Later that evening, we joined Niklas and Linnea to go get ice cream. On the way we stopped at a mall to find an energy drink for Niklas. He was going to Mikael's later that night to watch an NHL game. One of the players was making his NHL debut for the Nashville Predators and the game was airing at 1:30 am Maputo time. When we stopped at the ice cream place, I only got a single scoop cone since I was still full from lunch.
We finished eating our ice cream and headed back to the house. There we tried playing Mad Gabs, but we learned after a few minutes that this was next to impossible for the Swedes since many were American pop culture topics. Christina also Skyped with her dad, Paul. I talked with Paul a little too and let him know that his daughter was treating me alright.
One of Christina's friends came over and we talked with him for a while. He was able to point out on a map where Masana (pron. "mah-sah-nah"), the organization Christina and I were going to the next morning, was at in the city. He stayed a little longer while his phone charged before leaving.
Christina and I talked some more. She was curious to hear how my trip was affecting my future in missions. I told her that this trip had really been an affirmation that I was supposed to be doing missions. She asked if I felt I was being called to a job in administration like I currently was, or if I felt like I was being called to serve overseas. I wasn't sure so I said so, but that this trip had really given me the sense that I could if God wanted me to.
She followed by asking which region God might be calling me to. I said I was open to serving wherever, but I have always had a passion for Southern Africa and never knew why. She was very excited to hear this. Our conversation was also interrupted numerous times by her giggling and saying, "Sam Williams is in my house in Maputo!" She was very excited I was there, but it was weird to her because I "was out of my context".
We also talked some more about Lesotho. I said that if she got the job I'd have to make the trip to visit her there. This part of the conversation was eerily reminiscent of the ones we had prior to her leaving for Mozambique, and we all know how that turned out!
Our talk lasted until around 12:30 am when we realized how late it was and went to bed.
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