Checking in...

My friend Esther told me that I needed to write on here again because "people who read your blog but don't know you personally will think that you've died."

I don't know if anyone reads this blog who I don't know personally, but just in case, here we go.

I am alive. I am in Canada.

It has been very nice being back in Canada. This is one of my favorite times of year- autumn- and it has been lovely to watch the wheat ripen and the leaves begin to turn. It's also been lovely to catch up with friends and family. I love my friends and family.

The two things people have said to me the most since I got back are:
1. You are back already?
2. Why don't you have a tan?

The two things that I have had the hardest time remembering since returning to Canada are:
1. To yield to pedestrians
2. That hot water comes out of taps here (ouch!)

Leaving Mozambique was pretty sad. I was speaking in staff devotions that morning and I had something all eloquent planned but then most of my mental effort was spent trying not to sob convulsively. I did pretty well with the not sobbing until I went to say goodbye to Tendai and her mom. Tendai wasn't sure what all the fuss was about, but she gave me a hug and two kisses anyways.

(Lynn and I at the Beira airport)

Dwight and Lynn very kindly flew me from Chimoio to Beira where I caught my first flight to Johannesburg.

(The plane getting some fuel under Dwight's supervision while I try to soak in my last glimpses of Moz)

While I was waiting for my flight out of Beira I decided to organize the loose change that was clinking around in my wallet. The tally was:

$2.01 CAN
£ 1.17
2 MZM (that's Moz currency)
7.10 ZAR (South African Rand)

I'm pretty sure that this all comes to less than $6.00. The only reason that this is notable is because when I got to London I went to the British Museum to see one of the moai (aka a giant stone head from Easter Island). I wanted to leave my rather weighty backpack in the coat check but alas...it cost £1.50 to leave your backpack at the coat check and, if you will recall, I only had £1.17.

I stumbled around the museum for a while but my backpack was SO heavy and I was SO tired and had SUCH a bad headache after flying all night. I made my way out of the main entrance to the museum, sat down on the steps, looked up and made the very happy discovery that there was a Starbucks right across the street. I hastened over, bought a tea and a muffin, and went back to the museum steps to sit in the sun and have my snack (and some Tylenol. Good thing I don't leave home these days without a malaria survival kit!)

After the Starbucks and the drugs kicked in I decided to go find the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine (LSHTM). I will be beginning my masters degree at said school this coming Monday and I wanted to check the place out.

In May I really began to regret my decision not to go to school this year. In late June I was looking around at the websites of some of the schools I was the most interested in applying to, one of which was the LSHTM. While I was browsing I noticed that the LSHTM didn't have an application deadline! I wasn't sure how things could work out, seeing at it was kind of late in the game and I had, well, no money, but I decided to just go for it an apply! I applied in early July and, two days before I left Mozambique, I was shocked to find out that I was accepted! I didn't think that I was be able to go (remember, no money) but on my flight home while I was waiting in the Johannesburg airport I checked my e-mail. There was a message in my inbox informing me that a line of credit was available to me which would cover my tuition and living costs. I was one happy girl!

So, I came back to Canada, waited the mandatory 28 days until I could apply for my student visa (don't ask me why you have to wait 28 days, I have no idea), applied for my visa, bought a plane ticket and then received my visa last Friday! I leave for London this Friday and school begins the following Monday. I am SO grateful for this opportunity. It seems like God has so quickly brought everything together that I needed to go to school this year, including a great airfare and what looks to be a fantastic living situation. I don't think I'm really going to believe that this is all true until I'm through the registration line and sitting in my first lecture! I am very happy and thankful and excited, both for the last wonderfully rich year of my life and for this new chapter, full of possibility.

The Lasts...

The other night I was in my tent taking pictures of my nightstand.

I really like them.

I like the peeling label on my alarm clock, evidence of my initial strategy to learn Portuguese.

I like the candlelight.

I like the way that necklace looks sitting on top of a beautifully carved box I bought in Malawi.

I kept going back to look at these pictures and had been wondering what it is about them that appeals to me so much when another blogger, a young woman who lives in Sudan, gave me my answer.

She wrote:

"Sometimes, I feel like I should write about the things that are different or interesting or noteworthy about life in Sudan. But, just as noteworthy are the little things that seem simple and mundane. I often overlook the abundance of my life."

I like these photos because they remind me of the little things, the myriad of small things, that have made my life so rich these last 10 months.

I remember one day back in March. I was riding The General out to the school and thinking about life and, due to different things, feeling deeply discouraged.

I must have arrived at the school just as the kids were getting out for recess because a good chunk of the grade 1 and 2 students poured out of their classrooms as I pulled into the yard. They crowed around me and my bike so closely I couldn't get off, saying hello, shouting my name, reaching out to shake hands.

When I finally managed to get off my bike I was escorted to the classroom with one set of little hands holding on to each of my fingers, my arms. One little set of arms was wrapped around my waist. Several little boys offered me their treats of roasted corn on the cobs. Other little boys took turns wearing my helmet and running about the schoolyard making motorcycle sounds.

I sat at the back of the class with tears welling up in my eyes because God was speaking to me. He was telling me that I was measuring my life by what what it didn't have, instead of by what it did have. The truth was that my life was full up of good things.

And my life is rich. I am blessed every day by so many things, big and small.

I am entering my last week in Mozambique, which also means that this is my week of lasts.

Last time I build a fire to warm my bath water.

Last time I make supper in the camp kitchen while I watch the sun sinking down over the trees.

Last visit to the school.

Last trip to town

Last ride on The General (no!).

Last devotions with the staff.

Last time to buy a Coke at Fadzai's shop.

My last chance to appreciate all the small things that God has used these last 10 months to show me grace and comfort.

It makes my heart heavy to know that the time has come again to say goodbye. I have been here for a relatively short time, but it has been so (ahem) eventful and full that it feels like much longer and it will be difficult to let it go.

The General...

It is no secret that I quite appreciate The General, my little motorbike. I've never felt, however, that The General has returned my affections. Actually, on many occasions it has almost seemed like he wanted to do me harm. This has been rather puzzling.

The General and I went out to the school today. It's about 40km round trip. When my cousin was here she would come with me and we would chat. Now that it is just me, well, I talk to myself a bit. Or sing. 40km of total silence? No thanks.

The scenery on the road to the school is quite pretty. The road itself, however, is another matter.

When the nursing students were here one of their leaders was taking a turn driving out to the school in our big van. I was sitting in the passenger street giving her tips on how to navigate the road. As we we nearing the school she said, "I feel like I'm getting to the end of the level!"

Well said. It IS kind of like a video game. I tend to think of it in segments, each segment ending with one of the obstacles. It goes a little like this:

Sand trap. First sketchy bridge. Rocky incline. Hell's Corner. Sand trap. Second sketchy bridge. Deep ruts full of rocks. Sand trap. Final stretch to the school.

Here is where the road kind of turns into a "W" sort of shape and the ruts are full of sharp rocks. The General once drove itself right into one of these ruts and remained there for some time. It was a bumpy, slightly terrifying ride.

Here's sketchy bridge #2. Let's take a closer look.

Here is The General at the bottom of the Rocky Incline. It is his least favorite part. Coincidentally, it was also my cousin's least favorite part.

Anyways, I have been wondering if maybe after all The General doesn't hate me. Maybe his bad behavior is rather a cry for help. After all, the road to the school is less than ideal for a little bike like him. Maybe all those times he tried to scrape me off on a tree or wanted to fall over in one of the sand traps, he was only trying to get my attention in order to beg for mercy. He didn't want to scratch his shiny purple paint job or dent his Chinese Throwing Star wheels. Completely understandable.

I guess I have put him through an awful lot.

General, I forgive you for being so ill-tempered and breaking down so often.

Group shot.

Introductions...

As I enter my twilight days here in Mozambique I am trying to make sure that I don't leave things undone. One thing that I have not done (how is it possible?) is to introduce you to some of the people I have been with for the last ten months.



Here is the whole kit and caboodle. Sorry it's so tiny, but I'm sure you can get the gist of it. As you can see, the farm employs quite a large staff. The number fluctuates somewhat throughout the year as some staff are permanent and some on contract. In this groups we have health workers, administrative staff, carpenters, gardeners, shepherds, drivers, teachers, staff for the orphan program, staff for the women's program, bricklayers and general laborers as well as some women who are part of our "work for milk" program.

Here are my fellow expats.

Me: Hi!

Andy: just coming on board. He is a pilot and will also be involved in the agricultural aspect of the work. He is from Switzerland and makes very delicious and artistic bread.

Dwight: Also known as Mr. Boss. He is our most excellent team leader and the head of SAM Ministries here in Mozambique. He is also a pilot. He is involved in pretty much everything that goes on around here, though I would say that our pastoral leadership and training program is quite dear to his heart. Dwight it just generally great.

Lynn: Mrs. Boss. Married to Dwight. She is a nurse and runs the health aspect of the work here which includes two, soon to be three, health posts. She is also involved in running our child sponsorship program AND she is also continuing her education by correspondence AND she takes good care of Dwight. Pretty impressive.

Ron: Ron is an American but has lived for years in South Africa heading up the ministry of Mercy Air. Now Mercy Air is establishing a base here on the ASAM farm so Ron and his wife Barb are here to oversee that. Ron and Barb have been a big encouragement to Dwight and Lynn for a long time and it is great to have had them living here on the farm.

Barb: Also American. Married to Ron. Barb is one of the sweetest ladies you will every meet and has a huge, compassionate heart for people (as does her husband!). Right now Ron and Barb are in the States raising support.

Francois: Francois is a South African and has been working here in Mozambique for a number of years. He has a passion for evangelism. He is also in charge of our schools and does a lot of work with finances here on the farm. He is very funny and an excellent speaker!

Alta: Also South African, and married to Francois. Alta runs our women's ministry which has well over 1000 women enrolled through several provinces in Mozambique and up into Malawi as well. The women learn to read and write as well as learning income generating skills like embroidery. Alta is also in charge of our very delicious lychee orchard. Alta and I share a deep love for coffee and have shared many a cup along with chit chat and yummy baking.

Chris and Corissa: They were here for a month as volunteers. We are very blessed to have a lot of people, like Chris and Corissa, come out to visit us and give us a hand for short amounts of time. It is so encouraging!

Tendai: Short, cute. Likes to punch people in the face. 20 months old. Did I mention that she is cute?

Rick: Is a fellow Canadian. He oversees the youth and children's ministry here which includes regular programs for the orphans and other students as well as travelling up north to train pastors and other leaders on how to care for children. He is also very handy and is involved in many of the day to day projects that take place on the farm. He loves to hunt and do all things outdoorsy, and it currently teaching his daughter Tendai to hunt elk in anticipation of their upcoming furlough. Rick also makes very delicious fruit smoothies.

Heather: Is married to Rick and is Tendai's mom! She is in charge of the orphan program here. She and Rick run a program for our orphan kids every other week and she makes sure that food and other supplies are delivered to the families on a regular basis. Heather learned to cook when she moved to Mozambique and now she is basically a gourmet. She is also learning Portuguese very well. Heather and Rick are my neighbors on the farm and let me come and hang out at their house quite often (thankyouthankyouthankyou).

Mushu: Mushu belongs to Dwight and Lynn. He was born on January 1, 2000 and Lynn likes to joke that he got the Y2K bug. She is probably right. We still like him, though. Mushu cannot sleep without his blanky. He has serious issues, I'm afraid

The new kid...

Notes...

I've never been very good at keeping a diary in the one sense. I have kept a journal on and off throughout my life, but it usually takes YEARS for me to fill one. The entries are very sporadic and have little to do with keeping any sort of record of events. I usually write about things that I am thinking about, or something I learned, or about something I hope will happen. In the midst of all the extended passages about what I'm thinking or feeling there will be a little statement that says something like, "Oh, by the way, I graduated from college last month" or, "Oh, by the way, I spent the summer in Peru." See what I mean? For historical purposes, it's rather useless.

I'm afraid that my blog has gone much the same way, which is unfortunate for those of you who read this hoping to hear about what is actually happening here at the farm.

Allow me to try and do better.

1. I only have a few weeks left here in Mozambique. I haven't mentioned this because I wanted to surprise a few people when I went back to Canada. As it turns out though, it is one thing to surprise people when you are popping home for a visit and quite another to try and surprise people when you are coming home. I can just picture myself bursting into my home church a few weeks from now and saying hello to the wonderful people who support me financially who perhaps might be a bit confused as to why I'm not in Africa. So, the cat is out of the bag!

2. The health manual is done and printed and the health course makes its debut into the curriculum of our seminary tomorrow. We also wrote a (much shorter) book (a booklet, really) about how and why churches can promote health in their community. This booklet is the health manual's travelling companion. Who knows where all they will go?

3. On Friday the shepherds started a brush fire to clear some ground for our sheep to graze. Unfortunately, said brush fire reignited itself several times throughout the course of the evening. Mr. Boss beat it out.

4. Speaking of the sheep, they seem to have developed a distaste for their pasture and have taken to grazing around our homes and the office. Several times I have come out of the office only to find that I am surrounded by sheep frantically nibbling on the lawn.

5. Also on Friday, a helicopter landed on the farm. It was friends of Francois and Alta, just stopping in for coffee. This happens every now and then, but it's still exciting.

If you really want to read about what happens around here please allow me to direct you to Lynn's blog (you may know her as "Mrs. Boss"). She does a great job of recording all the happenings around here and she takes a lot of lovely pictures.

Okay, there we go. The regularly scheduled random postings will recommence shortly.

I have good friends...

...I have evidence.