System failure...

I went into town today with Rick, Heather, Tendai and Barb. We all had long to-do lists. I had a date with immigration and the grocery store and I needed to buy parts for The General. Barb needed building supplies. Rick and Heather needed everything from wire fencing to pork chops. Rick also needed to withdraw a significant amount of funds from the mission's bank account as there are many projects on the go requiring transport and supplies and, being as the month is coming to a close, we need to pay salaries.

Unfortunately, we soon found out that business in Chimoio had more or less ground to a halt. There was no cell coverage. None of the bank machines were working, nor were the banks themselves. Credit and debit cards also didn't work. Basically, there was no way to get cash but the only way to pay for things at the moment is in cash.

Word on the street is that everywhere in Mozambique north of Maputo is off-line. I included a map to illustrate this. I circled Maputo. As you can see, basically everything is north of Maputo. The square is where I live, more or less.

So...we went for pizza. Then we came home.

We are hoping that whatever is causing this problem will get sorted out soon. Pray! Until the banks are up and running again things will be a little tricky.

Back again...

I'm back home on the farm as of about lunch time yesterday. I ended having to stay an extra day in Maputo due to flights. I was feeling a tad under the weather so I was happy to stay curled up in bed while the rain came down in sheets.

Being back is good. I had forgotten how cozy my tent is and how much I like building the fire for the shower and brushing my teeth by candlelight.

One highlight of going to South Africa is checking our mailbox. Getting mail from home is so lovely and encouraging. This picture is of some of the tea that has arrived from the loved ones back home. Thank you so much! Thank you also for the beef jerky and the letters and the Grade A quality Crayola crayons and everything else. It is so thoughtful and kind of you to take the time and the effort to send these things and it means a great deal to me.

It's really humbling for me to realize how much God has blessed me with the relationships in my life. Your sweet generosity inspires me to give more.

This and that...

I’m back in South Africa after a fantastic two weeks in Uganda visiting my friends Ruco and Kristi. I’m not too handy with the picture taking, so I’m afraid I don’t have much evidence of my trip. You’ll just have to believe me when I tell you that I saw a leopard on the side of the road and that eastern Uganda was dramatically beautiful. I was worried that I would get behind with work while I was in Uganda, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. I get a lot done when I’m not constantly making up excuses to go and visit Tendai.

I think that I will head back to Mozambique tomorrow. Today is being spent taking advantage of the speedy internet connection here in SA (my computer is sadly in need of updating and my iTunes begging for some refreshment), grocery shopping, and buying a few warmer pieces of clothing for the winter. Plaid is all the rage here in South Africa. Plaid was all the rage when I was in junior high. For everything there is a season, I suppose. I also bought a new suitcase. If you have read this blog for a while you may remember that my former suitcase died a quick and unanticipated death on my trip over to Moz and 50% of my belongings made the trip in a giant plastic bag provided by the airline. The baggie served its purpose admirably, but its time is over now.

I was in the taxi this morning on my way into town and I saw the strangest thing. On the curb at a major intersection there were three dolls set up. You know the type- white blond hair; large, blank, blue eyes. Anyways, they were just standing there, watching the traffic with their synthetic curls blowing in the breeze from passing cars. It was a little creepy. Who put them there? Why? And how were they able to stand on their own?

The mall here in Nelspruit is like my Cheers. We do all our computer work from a coffee shop called Mugg and Bean because they have great internet (and lattes, oh, the lattes). When I walked into good old M&B this morning the server greeted me and apologized because my “usual” table was already taken. The good men and women at the mail/laminating place are also pretty friendly. I don’t have to give them my name...or my order number, for that matter. I just walked in and they ran and got my laminated materials, checked the mail box, and inquired after the “orphans.” I suppose that they don’t have too many customers that regularly bring in drawings of chickens and poop and waterborne diseases (don’t be intimidated by the glamour of my job, I beg you) so I suppose it’s not too surprising that they remember me. But, for whatever reason, it’s nice to be known- to feel like you have a little place somewhere. You know?

I shall leave you with a video of three Karamajong women saying “Happy Birthday” to Ruco’s dad. Fantastic.

Seriously...

...this coffee tasted different.

Little Miss Tendai...

...is just so cute.

Especially...

...when she wears my glasses.

(Photo credits go to Heather, as is often the case)

Blending in...

(Just act casual)

In my mind, this is how this week will go:

Sunday: Er...listen to a downloaded sermon?

Monday: My new passport will get here.

Tuesday: Business as usual. Laundry?

Wednesday: Fly to South Africa with Mr. and Mrs. Boss (in the little plane).

Thursday: Get my visa for Mozambique.

Friday: Good Friday. Go to Mugg and Bean (South African equivalent of Starbucks).

Saturday: Fly to Uganda.

I will keep you posted on how it all pans out.

Sincerely,

Your's truly

PS- The health manual is almost done!

I've been thinking lately...

...that if I am ever a mother and one of my children comes to me, heart sick because life has handed them some cruel disappointment, this is what I will do.

I will say, “When life gives you lemons, have a good cry.” I will encourage them to take the time to honestly acknowledge the extent of their pain, even though it will be hard for them to do and hard for me to watch. I will not offer up any “bright sides” or quotations or advice. I won’t try and make them feel better so that really I can feel better. I will try very hard not to do those things.

Then, when some time has passed and the tears have begun to dry a little, I will remind them of what I hope they will have already learned.

I will remind them that they are still alive, and that other people are still alive too. And, as that is the case, their path is clear. I will remind them that they exist not for themselves, but for others, and of how that is a comforting thing. For although something sad has happened to them, it does not mean that something has gone awry in the grand scheme of thing. Their life, although precious, is not the grand scheme. It is only a part of it.

I will remind them that none of the meaning or purpose or richness in their life has been lost. They are doing and can continue do what they are meant to do. Loving God, loving others. Those are the things that flood a life with goodness. We are filled by what we give, not by what we get, I will say.

And, I imagine, they will look at me and I will see hurt and doubts and questions in their eyes.

"Trust me," I will say. And I will mean it, too.